GLORIES 

OF 

OLD 
NASSAU 



THE GLORIES OF 
OLD NASSAU: 



A History of the 
College of New Jersey 

Done into Easy Verse 



BY 



EDWARD N. TEALL, '02 



To Alma Mater, to all Her Sons, 
and especially to the 

Class of 1902 

This Little Book is 

Affectionately Dedicated 



Copyright 1915 by Edward N. Teall. 



GI.A401301 

to, 



M -9 1915 



V% 



i 






GLORIES OF NASSAU. 



PART I. 

FROM THE FOUNDING OF THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY 

TO THE DEATH OF THE FIRST LION OF OLD 

NORTH, JOHN WITHERSPOON : 

1746-1794. 

I 
Attend, ye loyal sons of Nassau Hah, 
Where'er ye beautify this earthly ball; 
Ye who are anchored fast to hearth and home, 
And ye who o'er the lands and oceans roam, 
With those, most blessed of mortal men, who dwell 
Within the ringing range of Old North Bell — 
Come, brothers ! Let us nigh together draw, 
To celebrate the glories of Nassau ! 

'Tis sweet, when wearied of life's crowding cares, 

Of sowing grain and reaping crops (of tares), 

To step aside a while and rest — 'tis sweet 

To go where no weed mixes with the wheat; 

And so it is that oftentimes we yearn 

Our pilgrim steps to Old Nassau to turn, 

To sojourn on her high Olympic mount, 

To quaff again of her Pierian fount, 

To worship briefly at her sacred shrine, 

Renew the precious memories that twine 

Our hearts with hers as doth the Old North vine 

With gentle clinging tendrils clasp her walls; 

And firmer with each added year that falls, 

A time-drop in the swelling sea of time 

(As greener grow the ivies, higher climb, 

More lovingly enfold the ancient hall) 

Those ties shall bind us, each recurrent call 

Find us more willing subjects to her thrall. 

Can you not hear those dormitories ring 
With joyous hubbub as we laugh and sing — 
Lighthearted youngsters that we used to know, 
Our very selves as in the long ago — 
The while our staider brethren sat and polled, 
Delving dry dust while we panned out the gold? 
Shall we not once again the Campus rule 

3 



As in those days when, lately out of school, 
We strutted like the gobbler near his hen, 
And much admired ourselves as CoeeEGE Men? 
And shall we not with shock of mimic war 
Rage round the placid Cannon as of yore — 
Or, bosoms swelling 'neath the Sophomore stripe, 
Breathe incense from the unaccustomed pipe — 
Or, basking on the greensward 'neath the elm 
As stately Juniors long to take the helm— 
Or, reverend Seniors, in th' omniscient year, 
Our valuable counsel volunteer — 
Or once again in gossipy communion, 
Foregather round the lamp post of Reunion, 
Or, four years passed since we were infant preps, 
Assemble joyously to hold the Steps? 

Then, with a sigh for those old merry times, 

On to the theme that animates our rhymes ! 

"New days, new ways" — and though we're out of date, 

And get the merry "Ha-ha" when we prate 

Of by-gone things, our sons are on the Campus, 

And on the job ! Why, it would stump Melampus, 

That ancient famed progenitor of seers, 

To read old Princeton's future for five years, 

They go so fast down there ! Yet through it all, 

Though earth may quake and though the heavens fall. 

One thing there is unchanging for all time, 

Eternal youth enwreathes its head sublime: 

The Princeton Spirit, known in every clime! 

II. 
Tell, silent Muse of History, the name 
Of him, most worthy, but unknown to fame, 
In whose great mind that concept had its birth 
That gave our Princeton Academe to earth ! 
Say who it was that, cogitating deep, 
In studious hours — in vision born of sleep, 
Or in some heaven nurtured inspiration 
First kenned the need of this puissant nation, 
That had its Yale, its Harvard even then 
But ne'er a ColeEGE oe New Jersey. When, 
Long-brooding Clio, shall thy lips unsealed 
The name of this high benefactor yield, 
And bid the sacred secret be revealed? 

Vain to invoke the coy, reluctant Muse! 

4 



Oft as we pray, doth she the boon refuse. 

So let us carve in proud memorial stone 

A word of honor to our Great Unknown, 

And make him equal with Balboa when, 

'Silent upon a peak in Darien," 

The western ocean swam into his ken — 

With Galileo, student of the stars, 

Invincible behind his prison bars — 

With Newton when he saw the apple fall — 

With them who harnessed Steam and Lightning; all 

The glorious philanthropic brotherhood 

Whose thoughts, whose dreams have shaped the common good! 

Now, from the bole of legend and of myth, 

Peel off the bark and excavate the pith: 

Exploring well the records, you will find 

That Learning round the Pulpit was entwined. 

In these days, pulpit ridden as they be, 

It certainly is difficult to see 

Just why there should be such a keen demand 

For Dominies to overrun the land — 

But then, we don't appreciate good things 

(N'est ce pas?) until they take unto them wings; 

And, just by way of corollary, we 

Think what we haven't got just right must be. 

So, lacking native talent to exhort 'em 

(They might have chosen amateurs ad sortetn!), 

To get good preachers they would e'en import 'em. 

Then down in Pennsylvania William Tennent 

Flung to the airs his Presbyterian pennant, 

And while it fluttered proudly in the breeze, 

He manufactured batches of D. D.'s — 

One of our earliest infant industries — 

And didn't seem a tinker's dam to care if 

He didn't get a high protective tariff. 

Now, Rollo, 'tis this shop of priestly knowledge 

We honor even yet as our Log College. 

Not much of fact shines through the veiling haze 
That wraps about the old Log College days, 
When by the Forks of classic Neshaminy 
Stout-hearted Tennent led his lads through Pliny, 
(How "Dutch" we're "in," by good St. Tammany, 
If that should be pronounced Ne-sham-iny !) 
With frequent draughts of heady Scotch (theology) — 
Hard noddled days! — and chasers of doxology; 

5 



But sure in passing 'twere not out of place 

To raise a cheer to that forerunning race 

Who, had there been a Princeton College then, 

Would first have borne the name of Princeton Men 1 

In Seventeen Hundred and Thirty-nine 

(These dates are the dickens to get in line!) 

They tried to start, some ancient dominies, 

A college for the Middle Colonies : 

"For see/' quod they, "how incomplete is Yale, 

Without a chance to twist the Tiger's tail ; 

And High Brow Harvard, it's a lead pipe cinch, '11 

Be happy with some one to call 'provincial.' 

So, for to satisfy this double yearning, 

New Jersey needs must have a seat of learning." 

But ere this happy notion bore its fruit 

The pious brethren fell into dispute; 

Two synods grew where one had been before, 

New York and Philly, waging merry war, 

And hurling threats and epithets prodigious, 

With fire and fury perfectly — religious : 

So has it been since history began — 

No subject stirs the fighting blood of man, 

Makes him so keen in seas of gore to roll 

As his own right to save his brother's soul; 

The priest may prate of making wars to cease, 

But brings more swords than implements of peace. 

Yet, after all, the priests are less to blame 

Than foolish Human Nature, that's the same 

In cowl and cassock as in martial mail, 

And loves a fight as epicures the quail. — 

At any rate, these warring Presbyterian 

Divines kicked up such clouds of dust, Cimmerian 

Obscurity enwraps the famous melee, 

And hides from laymen's sight the casus belli. 

Now, while this fray fraternal split the Church, 
Bill Tennent died and left 'em in the lurch. 
(Right here let's pause, a curious fact to note: 
A book that Dr. Alexander wrote, 
Old Archibald, since 'Fifty-one in heaven, 
"Log College," page One Hundred Twenty-seven, 
Declares our second President, A. Burr, 
Had oft been heard in earnest to aver 
That Jersey CoeeEGE ne'er 'd have been erected 
Had dear old Yale Dave Brainerd not ejected!) 

6 



This much is sure — and more we need not know — 
That eight score (and a fraction) years ago, 
In Seventeen Hundred and Forty-six, 
The New York Synod put in its best licks, 
And, sad experience having made 'em smarter, 
This time they landed, safe and sound, a charter. 

It isn't spread upon our college blotter, 

But seems to have been able to hold water — 

Though not like certain stocks, which hadn't oughter, 

Yet put a sponge to shame for packing water. 

At any rate, it named a few Trustees, 

And offered some high-vaulting guarantees : 

Ambitious youth into the mysteries 

Of Science and the Liberal Arts t' induct, 

And in the Learned Languages instruct — 

In short, an "Academick Education," 

Complete in every proper specification, 

Was permanently to be kept on tap 

For all who wanted academic pap — 

A mental Nestle's Food-Imperial Granum 

At only Four Pounds (Jersey weight) per annum. 

We note in that historic document 

That three Trustees are labeled simply "Gent./ 

While four are plainly nominated "Minister 

Of Gospel" — a distinction we deem sinister; 

Yet, being neither Dominie nor Gent., 

We merely note, and don't at all resent, 

Or even wonder if it sounds as meant 

Or caused a pang of jealous discontent 

To either of the parties most concerned : 

The truth, of course, can never now be learned. 

III. 
This much accomplished, it was necessary — 
Advisable at least, and fitting, very — 
To find an institution that would do 
To fit the newly granted Charter to. 
The genesis of Princeton's pedagogical 
Career is somewhat mildly bugological. 
As per one scribe who says the Princeton "germ" 
(We can't forgive the gentleman that term, 
It makes our patriotic stomach squirm) 
Was planted by a wise and famous man, 
J. Dickinson: the "J." for Jonathan, 
A name in Nassau's honor list enrolled 



In lasting letters brightly writ in gold, 
By pious Edwards and by Belcher borne, 
Fit names our early chronicle t' adorn. 

Now, J. D. had a little shop of knowledge, 
A very pretty embryonic college, 
Where half a dozen students were collected, 
To have their manners and their minds perfected ; 
So this school to a college was erected, 
And Jonathan as President elected — 
The school remained in all respects the same, 
With nothing changed except the official name. 
Now, having reached at last the state of isness, 
The Trustees advertised : "We're here for bizness ; 
'A body corporate and politick/ 
With quarters at the home of Dr. Dick- 
inson, Elizabeth, the Rahway road, 
South side thereof. Courses quite a la mode. 
If we suit you, tell others — if we don't, 
Tell us ! Grand opening this spring !" We won't 
Prolong the agony; suffice to say, 
In 'Forty-seven, the last week in May, 
The Cou,EGE of New Jersey's under way! 

As, in the forging of this mighty nation, 
The Fathers wrought with much of tribulation, 
And the Colonial Confederation, 
Dimly foreshadowing our better fates, 
Led to the glorious Union of the States, 
So with our College and its Founders : they 
Through trackless territory groped their way, 
With stupid opposition often vexed, 
And oftentimes by problems deep perplexed. 
Foremost of all came suitable location, 
The problem of a central habitation; 
And first the newly chartered corporation 
Chose Newark, where a godly congregation 
Unanimous, with no one to demur, 
Sang endlessly the praise of Aaron Burr, 
Their pious pastor, and a learned man. 
So when the last call came to Jonathan 
(We read that he was "decently interred") 
His pupils up to Newark were transferred, 
And merged with Aaron's Latin school. Deferred, 
The project was not yet abandoned. Rather 
As only the most lofty mountains gather 

8 



The clouds around their peaks, increasing trouble 

Doth but the Founders' hopes and efforts double, 

And prove their strength and wisdom. Hither comes- 

Hurrah! Here beat the bugles, blow the drums! — 

A friend who hath at once the will and power 

To solve the problems of this gloomy hour: 

One who had nothing in him of the welsher, 

And born to play the part of trouble squelcher, 

Another Jonathan, surname of Belcher, 

Who greater than his master must be reckoned, 

His Gracious Majesty, King George the Second; 

Yet to the royal George we must be grateful, 

And unto Providence, which in the fateful 

Selection of a Governor for Neo- 

Caesaria hand-led him. To the trio, 

King George, and Providence, and Belcher, praise 

And honor and great glory all our days. 

Perhaps too long we've lingered on the prelude, 
But honestly, there is so much to tell you'd 
Scarcely believe, unless perhaps you've tried it. 
How hard, a story started, 'tis to guide it — 
Especially if told in rhyme and meter : 
It's like a pair of kiddies on a teeter — 
If he who's on the ground decides to stop, 
His vis-a-vis will take a sudden drop. 
Each line we perpetrate requires another, 
Although it's oftentimes the case we'd ruther 
Just let it go at that — indeed right now 
We're stewing our poor wits to dope out how 
In Hades we're to clap a stopper on 
This tommyrot — and that's no whopper! On 
Our word of honor, while we are explaining 
Slow progress, and our further course detaining, 
Our stupid brain to danger point we're straining 
To bring these lines to a long-hoped-for period 
Before they number halfway to a myriad — 
Why, at the rate we're going e'en the Erie 'd 
Get there ahead of us by half a day! — 
Well, then, as we were just about to say, 
When interrupted by ourselves so rudely, 
We'll try to give our narrative more nudely. 
We thank you for your very courteous patience, 
And trust the Muse has had of mischief satience. 

Resuming: Belcher hadn't been there long 

9 



When, realizing that they were "in wrong," 

Those keen promoters sent him a petition 

To say his kind assistance they were wishin', 

"An' Ma would like the loan of some new leaven 

To raise the sponge she set in 'Forty-seven." 

Well, Jonathan he came and looked things over, 

And soon the college household was in clover; 

"There ain't no use," said he, "o' trying tew 

Make bread o' that! I'll mix you up a new 

An' better lot, and guarantee you'll say 

You never see a better bakin' day !" 

And, sure enough, when he got through with fixin', 

And flour and yeast and salt and water mixin', 

The loaf that from the oven came at last 

Was such a loaf as never was surpassed : 

'Twas neither dry nor doughy — just between — 

And such a golden glory ne'er was seen 

(Except in tresses of a fairy queen, 

And they, we think must certainly be just 

That shade) as marked its crisp but melting crust. 

'Twas sweet and toothsome as the best of cake, 

Without the richness that makes tummies ache ; 

No cause for coin in pills to be invested, 

And yet not meatless like our "predigested," 

Unwholesome breakfast foods. — Now, some folks hold 

That baker Belcher simply took the old 

Unrisen batter and did something to it 

That made the fermentation spread all through it, 

And stir the loaf and magicwise renew it. 

And yet there seems more reason to suppose 

The truth of history resides with those 

Who say, directly contradicting these, 

The architect of Princeton's destinies 

(As such may Belcher fairly be regarded) 

The poorly built foundation wall discarded, 

Although it may have been a useful starter, 

And planned de novo in his famous charter. 

So, search the labyrinthine mazes through, 

The old grant isn't mentioned in the new, 

Which, answering the Founders' earnest prayer, 

Doth in the name of Georgius Rex declare: 

"As we desire our subjects all to suit, 

We mean to will, give, grant and constitute 

And have willed, given, granted, constituted 

The things they ask — and hope they all are suited." 

10 



Here let us pause to set the story straight: 

This second, final charter bears the date 

September- Fourteen, Seventeen Forty-eight, 

And that would make old Princeton's age appear 

As One-Six-Eight the ninth month of next year; 

Yet from the catalogue it's plain and clear 

They calculate our age from 'Forty-six — 

Which indicates that they prefer to fix 

Our genesis by that first grant of powers, 

Recorded early in this tale of ours, 

It seems that colleges in computation 

Of their own age take into calculation 

The antenatal period of gestation — 

For Alma Mater, unlike other ladies, 

Despises youthfulness and hates like Hades 

In counting up her record since she came to 

This earth, to lose a year she has a claim to ; 

And while for most of womankind each birthday 

Is saddening, for her it is a mirth day; 

They often drop a few, deny they've had em — 

This dear old lady slily tries to add 'em! 

IV. 
So now the college is in Newark town, 
And Aaron and his faculty get down 
To work for Nassau's glory and renown — 
The "faculty" was Caleb Smith, as tutor, 
And Aaron's only teaching coadjutor. 
The college set a very simple table, 
Few viands, but each one was true to label; 
Ah, those were days of health and simple diet — 
But modern students wouldn't care to try it. 
Alas! departed is the old simplicity, 
The call is nowadays for multiplicity 
Of courses — and it's wholly incontestable 
The bill of fare with every new comestible 
More piquant is, but also less digestible. 
Perhaps it is the latter day scholastic 
Has organs more efficient and elastic ! 
At any rate, our Aaron raised a breed 
Of hardy lads on simple fare indeed; 
A well compacted academic fascicle, 
Of which the elements were mainly classical, 
With double end, reversible translation, 
From each to t'other tongue, and back— tarnation !- 

ii 



And endless drill in Greek and Latin grammar — 

Why, even then one must have been a crammer 

Of "parts" to get by Prexy Burr! They say 

That Aaron had a very "taking" way, 

As from the following story may be seen: 

Joe Shippen, 'Fifty-three (with Seventeen 

Before it) tells how when the college in 

A lottery had won a lot of tin 

(The treasury had well depleted been), 

The President, when told of it, was so 

Refreshed in spirits — they'd been very low — 

He made a famous touch right there and then 

Of Alvord and some other Boston men 

(Cum multis aliis Bostonien- 

Sibus) that set us on our feet again. 

"And who like him could punish an offence 
So that not only none the act resents, 
But it's approved by e'en the delinquents?" 
We hope we're not too late to answer, though 
'Twas asked a century and a half ago — 
And so we state : We really do not know ! 
But this we do know, that in Aaron's day, 
As now, 'neath Hibben's firm, benignant sway, 
The College op New Jersey ever ran 
With sturdy stride in education's van, 
And not to scholars only gave its laurels, 
Or those who'd more of muscle than of morals, 
But sealed with its approval those in whom 
The flower of manhood came to perfect bloom 
Whose petals are of body, soul and head, 
Strength that is gentle, wit with honor wed. 

Now, Newark is a very pleasant place, 
But boys in town are apt to go a pace 
That keeps their elders on the anxious seat, 
And so the solons thought 'twould be discreet 
To seek some place of scholarly seclusion 
Far from the madding city crowd's confusion, 
Where in true academic calm and quiet 
They might live free from fear of sudden riot. 
The boys were boarding 'round in private houses, 
And while perhaps they weren't inclined to souses 
Or flirting with the worthy burghers' spouses 
(We hate to say that, but the rhyme allows us 
Small latitude; 'twas daughters that we meant), 

12 



Yet Aaron would have been much more content 

Could he have kept 'em all within his reach. 

Besides, he had no proper place to teach 

His classes in; the lads did their reciting 

At County Court House, and there were inviting 

Diversions that outrivalled mathematics 

In "human interest." The ancient Attics, 

For all their faculty of high mentation, 

Would certainly in such a situation 

Have felt there should be something more to college 

Than gnawing at the withered bones of knowledge. 

Some more sequestered place the Trustees sought, 

And stated very plainly that they thought 

This world "a theatre of dissipation," 

"Promiscuous converse" with it a temptation 

Too apt to end in premature damnation. 

(Had virtue all the power the pious claim, 

Temptation would be nothing but a name.) 

At any rate, the Powers That Used To Be 

Decided. it were best like Lot to flee 

And separate each tender growing charge 

As far as might be from Passaic's marge; 

And so they meet, these Fathers grave and sage, 

And pro and con logomachy they wage; 

"For see," said they, "a college we have got — 

A right good college, too — but not 

A decent domicile. We must have buildings, 

With all the fussy trimmings and the gildings, 

For brains are not a bit of use, you know, 

In this old world of vanity and woe, 

Unless you put 'em some place where they'll show, 

And colleges, whatever their curriculum,* 

Though guarded strictly as the old Janiculum, 

With pupils plenty and no end of books, 

Professors learn'd enough to match their looks, 

But lacking marble halls and ivied towers, 

Are like a Samson shorn of hair and powers ! 

Go to ! Prate not of scholarship's Napoleons ! 



*They had not read that teasing sheet, the Sun, 
Which now and then these ribald rhymes doth run 
"Curriculum, curriculum— 
O verbum ter ridiculum, 
With which the pedants tickle 'eml" 

13 



What use is scholarship without Simoi,eons?" 
So, lest the college should get weak and tottery, 
They got permission to conduct a lottery ; 
In fact, they had 'em in Connecticut, 
In Philadelphia and the Jerseys; but 
(As though enough in this land they could not land, 
They even touched the brethren in old Scotland), 
The cash in hand for buying stone and mortar, 
The wind still blew from its long wonted quarter : 
"What is the most desirable location 
From which to rule this mighty Jersey nation?" 
And one would stay in Newark town, and one 
Preferred Elizabeth, where they'd begun; 
But general opinion seemed to run 
In favor of a site near Jersey's middle : 
New Brunswick, say, whereat : "Oh, fiddle- 
Sticks ! Can the comedy," quoth one old party 
Whose rotund figure told of living hearty 
And whose bluff manner plain bespoke the layman — 
"Why, you may hang me higher than Boss Haman; 
I'd sooner live in endless Ramadan, 
The fasting month of folk Mahometan, 
Than on the banks of the old Rar-i-tan ! 
New Brunswick is a one-hoss sort of town — 
My vote for good old Princeton please put down!" 

The Princeton proposition "listened" good, 

Especially when one old timer — would 

We might record the aged seer's name, 

But he has come unlabelled down to fame; 

Indeed, we're feeling (modestly) elated 

Because we do not find the story stated 

In our Princetoniana. Though belated, 

We yet report the speech without errata, 

And only wish we had th' attendant data — 

Now, to it! When that butt in dash began, 

A few lines back, 'twas our immediate plan 

To tell how this gray bearded, wise old man, 

Whose eyes seemed somewhat dimmed by salty rheum, 

Yet strangely strong to penetrate the gloom 

That veils the future from the normal sight, 

As though with vision from an inner light, 

Arose, upraised a trembling hand, and spoke 

In accents that with strange emotion broke : 

#, My brothers, there is given to me power 

14 



To pierce the petals of the folded flower 

Of Time ! Far down the vista of the years 

Unborn I look, as did the ancient seers, 

With this new gift of mine. The Prospect clears, 

And where just now was darkness without form 

Up out of chaos living pictures storm : 

I see a college set upon a hill, 

That clearer grows upon my vision till, 

'Neath towers that like a fairy city gleam, 

Behold ! More fair than your most daring dream, 

The promised land of perfect Academe! 

I seem to see it passing down the stream 

Of yet remoter years; and evermore 

It grows more perfect than it was before; 

Men come and go, a strange new race; but she, 

This Alma Mater, planted like the sea, 

With tides that ebb and flow continually, 

Forever changing, yet the same for aye, 

Pursues more grandly her triumphant way. 

I see her ravished by the vandal's hand, 

While war's red horrors devastate the land — 

I see her sending patriotic sons 

To sow the seed of Freedom with their guns, 

While others, fresh from her protecting walls, 

Preside in a new nation's council halls, 

I see the lighted lamp of Learning's fane 

With undimmed lustre that her sons maintain, 

A noble race that 'round her banners throng 

And honor her in word and deed and song 

Until through all the land resounds her name, 

And to the world's ends ring her praise and fame; 

Her love tunes every heart and every voice, 

Her singing sons with one accord rejoice 

In praise" — he paused, while they beheld with awe 

Him glorified—' in praise of OLD NASSAU! 

The anthem swells like billows on the shore." 

He ceased, his ringing voice was hushed, and o'er 

The rapt assembly, breathless with amaze, 

There came a vision of the unborn days 

With wealth of compensating promise fraught 

When men should say : "How well the Founders wrought !" 

V. 

Too sweet the silence was to be enduring, 

And they were soon recalled from their alluring 

15 



Reflections on the glories booked for being 

By one who rudely broke the spell with: "Seeing 

That Newark and Elizabeth are out, 

And Princeton or New Brunswick without doubt 

Is where the College of New Jersey '11 settle, 

Let's show 'em our acumen and our mettle, 

And make these people boil the college kettle. 

With all respect to you, sirs, and The Cloth, 

We've got to have a fire to heat the broth; 

And though I lack your pious airs and learning, 

We laymen are the lads to keep it burning: 

We let the other fellow do the toiling 

To fetch the wood that keeps the pot a-boiling. 

To put it plainly: if you want a site, 

Don't go a-begging for it, but invite 

The other chaps to bid — then, watch 'em fight ! 

One fears the Greeks, not 'though,' but just because 

They come with gifts — it's human to find flaws 

In unexpected generositee, 

For good things are not often given free; 

But pin a good big price mark on, and see! 

Just play these people off against each other; 

Result, a regular bargain counter smother!" 

'Twas good advice, though offered with some crudeness, 

And preachers have their share of worldly shrewdness; 

Regarding not the speaker but the word, 

It seemed an admonition from the Lord : 

"He chooses humble vessels oft," said they, 

"His messages of guidance to convey." 

Unconsciously we're very hypocritical, 

In matters from religious to political; 

Our course is oft determined by a sign 

We have to stretch a point to call divine. 

The Trustees promptly then communicated 

With Princeton and New Brunswick, and dictated 

The terms in which their offers should be stated : 

So many dollars, and so many acres. 

New Brunswick didn't furnish any takers, 

But seemed to think our good Trustees were fakers. 

"No thanks," they said, "go fool the Princeton Quakers!"* 

There were no flies upon the Princeton folk, 

They ever were a "canny" tribe — no joke! — 



*The first settlers of Princeton were "Friends." 

16 



And boldly and forthright they up and spoke: 
"The coin is yours, good sirs — a thousand pound, 
With ten broad acres of the best cleared ground, 
Besides two hundred more of woodland, found. 
We'll take you in — we mean it, on the level ! 
Bring on the boys, we need 'em like the dickens — 
The sport, the athlete, and the greasy grind — 
On with the dance, let joy be unrefined ! 
Rah ! Tiger ! Sis-boom-ah ! Princeton !" — We gloat ; 
Was Princeton or the other place the goat? 

Now, Muse, lift up thy drooping head, and sing — 

Put ginger in it! Sing like anything! 

Art getting lazy? What's the matter, Muse? 

We're only nicely started on our cruise, 

With many a league before us — up, and sing, 

As doth the lark on heaven aspiring wing, 

Another canto of thy lyric lay; 

Sing of that ever memorable day, 

When Joseph Morrow and his mighty men 

Stuck spade in Princeton soil — inspire the pen 

To flights of eloquence yet unattained, 

Let all the wells of Poesy be drained — 

Divert the course of Wisdom's full fed stream 

To fit the channel of our lofty theme — 

At any rate, let's try to tell the story 

Of Oed North's natal day and start in glory. 

'Twas in July, the nine-and-twentieth day, 

In 'Fifty- four, our college records say, 

They stuck the spade into the sacred soil — 

Oh, blest beyond the wont of men, to toil 

In enterprise so noble, so enduring, 

So much of solace to this world assuring! 

Most fortunate of all mankind was he, 

That Thomas Leonard, the elect Trustee 

Who set the cornerstone of Nassau Haee, 

That ancient, proud palladium of us all! 

And one there was of less exalted station, 

A mason he by daily occupation, 

Whose name stands unsurpassed in Princeton's annals, 

Though not inscribed on our memorial panels ; 

To William Worth, whose hand and eye were true, 

Full meed of praise — Bill, here's a toast to you : 

May Nassau's sons acclaim you in all lands 

17 



While one stone of old Nassau Hall still stands 
Upon another! When these stout walls tumble, 
Let Learning die, and all our altars crumble! 

Now pastward has another year retreated, 

And Worth his lasting labor has completed, 

And Robert Smith, true knight of plane and saw, 

Whose work, like Worth's, was doubtless without flaw, 

Although his fame is somewhat more ethereal, 

Because he wrought in perishing material, 

In 'Fifty-five performed his little stunt — 

And often since the students gay have done 't: 

A statement that needs no long labored proof 

When 'tis explained that Robert "raised the roof." 

But most of all that gallant company 

To Randolph should the praise and honor be — 

Fitz Randolph whose big heart and open hand, 

That freely gave of money and of land, 

And neither time nor toilsome effort grudged 

Entitle him the leader to be judged 

Of Princeton's townsfolk, ever loyal clan, 

Who root for our old college to a man. 

Now doth the dome of Nassau Hall arise, 
A pinnacle aspiring to the skies, 
That Princeton's soaring spirit typifies. 
The day of little things is left behind, 
Our Lares and Penates are enshrined; 
The baby's old enough to have a name. 
"Why," all his happy relatives exclaim, 
"There's only one name that will do at all — 
We'll have to call the youngster Belcher Hall." 
And so a cordial letter they indited 
To Jonathan, to say he was invited 
To stand godfather to his little friend. 
But Jonathan declined the honor, saying: 
"Too great a compliment, my friends, you're paying 
To my small part in the foundation laying. 
I thank the Lord indeed, that some small share 
In this great enterprise was mine; but there 
The matter has its end; I must decline — 
This motto is a favorite of mine, 
Prodesse quam conspici. [Does it mean 
Better to be and do than to be seen 
And done?] Let me suggest a better way*. 
To William of Nassau this honor pay, 

18 



Who builded England greater and more free 
And gave the present race of Kings to be 
O'er Englishmen on either side the sea 
Most wise and gracious rulers. So let's call 
This temple of instruction Nassau Hau, !" — 
And so it was they gave the very name 
Of England's royal house to what became 
The highest altar of rebellion's flame ! 

Was it not General Xenophon whose men 
"Proceeded thence by easy stages — En- 
Teuthen exelaunei"? Three score and ten 
With Aaron at the head in high command 
The college army marched through Jerseyland; 
But as to "easy" stages we're inclined 
To think that they were pretty hard to find 
In those days. College records do not tell 
What happened in between the fond farewell 
To Newark town and Princeton's welcome home, 
And so is lost a canter for our pome. 

VI. 

Well, then, let's have a look at campus ways — 

They had some queer ones in those "good" old days 

At — bless us ! — five o'clock each weekday morn 

The college Gabriel winded well his horn; 

And forthwith down the dormitory stairs 

The lads came trooping out to morning prayers — 

Then, study — breakfast — half an hour free; 

Next, morning classes — dinner — recreation, 

Allowance, ninety minutes; recitation 

To supper time, and prayers again; till seven 

Your time's your own ; study ; bed at ten — heaven 

The students didn't call it, that's a bet! 

A good stiff schedule, wasn't it? And yet 

The wise authorities these rules provided 

In order that the students might be guided 

In paths of rectitude in those two hours 

Per diem when they plucked the tempting flowers 

Of idleness: that whoso played at dice, 

Or cards, should pay five shillings for his vice — 

With public admonition if caught twice; 

While if a third time in the tents he dwelled 

Of sinful dalliance, he should be expelled. 

They furthermore informed the Rah-Rah boys 

"No jumping, hollaring, or boisterous noise" 

19 



Would be allowed; that shoes and stockings "tight" 

Must be; that any undergrad who might 

Desire to smoke or chew tobacco in 

His room must pay five shillings of his tin 

Per quarter extra on his room rent — Oh, 

We're glad we didn't live so long ago ! 

But stop a moment here — life wasn't so 

Completely gloomy as we've made it seem, 

For through the ancient town a steady stream 

Of varied traffic flowed : afoot, astride, 

Awheel, the seething, never ceasing tide 

Of life ran past the college door; and here 

The stages made their half-way stop for cheer 

To man and beast; and news from far and near 

Was passed in tavern taproom; yarns were told, 

Strange traveller's tales that made the blood run cold- 

Of foreign lands and pirates' buried gold — 

That often must have lured the lads at night 

When study lamps made curtained windows bright 

To steal an hour from musty tomes away, 

And risk the restless tutor's call as pay. 

Forbidden fruit is sweetest, so they say; 

And as to rules — we wonder if in making 'em 

The wise old dons don't count the fun of breaking 'em 

Although a leisure progress we prefer, 
Let's give Plug Pegasus the whip and spur! 
Before the first Commencement could occur, 
The last call came to good old Prexy Burr. 
He died in harness, and his last words were : 
"When I am gone, I beg you, don't incur 
Undue expense my body to inter — 
To spend it on the living I prefer." 
With such an epitaph in words his own, 
What need of learned Latin carved in stone ? 
Burr died in 'Fifty-seven. Edwards came 
In January, 'Fifty-eight. The same 
Year, ere his work was more than nicely started, 
March Twenty-two, from this life he departed; 
And though we "only know he came and went," 
Great lustre to our college fame he lent. 
In April, 'Fifty-eight, the Trustees met, 
And did the strangest thing we've heard of yet: 
Elected one James Lockwood President, 
A preacher in Connecticut; then went 

20 



And made the Reverend Caleb Smith their head 

To serve until they met again; instead 

Of stopping there and being satisfied 

With twice the number that the laws provide, 

The Reverend Samuel Finley they appointed 

And so they made the office triple jointed. 

Though Lockwood turned the proffered post aside, 

Both Cale and Sammy had been qualified. 

In 'Fifty-nine, fifth month thereof, at last, 

The final ballot was for Davies cast 

(Another Reverend Samuel) ; and he 

Two years was at the helm — the libraree 

Received the most of his attention, though 

At that it wasn't anything to blow 

About. He caught a cold; the doctors bled 

Him for it — ten days later he was dead. 

(Perhaps it isn't fair to blame the doctors 

For body sickness, any more than proctors 

Are held to be the cause of campus riot, 

But when there's trouble both are mighty nigh it — 

We cannot prove cause and effect relation, 

But urge most serious consideration 

Of this coincidental implication.) 

From 'Sixty-one to 'Sixty-six Sam Finley 

Held office — five years more spread mighty thinly 

With butter of adventure; all now pitch in 

And plug away most faithful at their stitchin'. 

They made arrangements for a college kitchen, 

And then the Trustees passed some mighty firm bills 

To make the stujents come across on term bills; 

A bread-and-buttery administration, 

A peaceful period of incubation, 

Of silent growth and quiet preparation 

For that great era ready to dawn soon 

When under President John Witherspoon 

Heroic deeds should be the contribution 

Of our self-sacrificing institution 

To the great drama of the Revolution. 

What cloud is this, no bigger than a hand, 

That sends grim echoes rumbling through the land? 

What strange new light that kindles every eye, 

Beholding it climb up the hills of sky 

And spread till all the heavens are o'ercast 

And earth is darkened 'neath its shadow vast — 

21 



While from its heart of gloom the forked fire leaps? 

What stir is this, what sudden wrath that sweeps 

From lip to lip where'er men meet and turn 

To one another faces pale and stern? 

What fires that on a million altars burn? 

These youthful acolytes of Academe, 

Whose wonted ways of exercise and theme 

Are peaceful as a summer twilight dream — 

Why doth each eye with fiery ardor gleam, 

Each voice vibrate with passion high and hot, 

While / of x and Tully are forgot? 

These learned men who slow, with knitted brow, 

The Campus closes pace — are Greek roots now 

Their pabulum, and tangled paradigms ? 

Their sluggish pulses quicken with the times, 

In tavern yards they take unwonted station, 

To 'wait the stage with eager expectation 

And hear the latest news from Boston, where 

The British Lion's bearded in his lair, 

And what Virginia's patriots are doing, 

And — what a lovely pot of trouble's brewing! 

What stirring days those must have been in Hall, 
When Whig and Clio hotly argued all 
The vexing questions of those bitter years, 
Received each loyal speech with ringing cheers 
And overwhelmed with hisses, hoots and jeers 
Each victim of the fortunes of debate 
Compelled by lot — Oh, most unhappy fate! — 
The loathed British side of it to state, 
The while for Britain he was full of hate! 
With Paterson and his "Well Meaning" clan 
The history of Clio Hall began, 
While some unnamed Princetonian collected 
A band of kindred spirits who selected 
"Plain Dealing" as their trademark, and erected 
The framework whereupon Whig Hall was modelled — 
Soft cradle where the arts of speech are coddled. 
In later years that good old man McCosh 
Joined Whig — and showed good common sense, by Gosh 
(Excuse the outburst of hayseedy Latin!) 
And somewhat later still dear Prexy PattOn 
Took honored station on the Clio deck — 
And he showed even better sense, by Heck! 
But Whig and Clio in those stormy times 

22 



Were far more lively than these pokey rhymes — 

And also less luxurious by far 

Than in their marble temples now they are 

And certainly there must have been some tall 

Upshoots of oratory in each Hall 

When Paterson and Ellsworth had it out, 

And Madison met Bedford in a bout 

Or Dayton and the younger Aaron met to 

Amuse their classmates with a verbal set-to, 

Or Frelinghuysen waged logomachy 

With Brother Smith, our President-to-be — 

Of famous names, too great a throng to mention — 

Why, half the Constitutional Convention 

Was there, and half the siege of Yorktown, too— 

Of Generals and Judges what a crew ! 

Their boyish cheeks and chins are bare of stubble, 

Yet in each heart the springs of Freedom bubble— 

With promise for their Tory friends of trouble — 

The raw material of hot sedition 

That needs a single spark to cause ignition 

And send King George and all his redcoat minions 

Volplaning heavenward on sprouting pinions ! 

Now out on Mercer street the Muse is bound, 
To visit Princeton's famous battleground; 
Just here it was they battled, long ago — 
The ragged Continental and his foe! 
Across these very smiling fields where now 
The farmer in the year's youth plies his plough, 
Upturning sacred soil to drink the sun — 
Uncovering, perchance, a rusted gun 
Of quaint old flintlock pattern, flung away 
By some sore wounded patriot that day; 
And on these grassy hillsides where the slow 
Incessant tidal seasons ebb and flow, 
By liberal handed Nature ranging wide 
Athwart this calm mid-Jersey countryside: 
A deeper furrow seared the fallow field, 
And of his malign labor's sanguine yield 
The gaunt, grim Reaper would not be denied. 

They fought, the Buff, the Red— as battles run, 
A poor affair! No surge of vast brigades; 
Yet 'neath the moon: "The nation's life we won," 
Is heard the whispering of patriot shades. 

23 



And now the Jersey campaign's at an end, 

And Princeton's battered fortunes on the mend, 

Ye gods ! What ruin where was all so fair ! 

Can human hands these ravages repair? 

Can they who hate the night command the noon? 

We seem to hear the voice of Witherspoon : 

"What though he vandal has defaced our halls? 

Still stand, as firm as Mother Earth, these walls ; 

And though our books are scattered far and wide, 

Think not, my lads, that with them Learning died : 

All these are honorable, manly scars — 

And OivD North's dome still soars to meet the stars ! 

These sacred stones in formless ruin laid, 

Not even then need stout hearts be dismayed; 

For stone and mortar do not make a college, 

But flesh and blood — and brains — and love of knowledge ; 

"And yet," we seem to hear him shrewdly add, 

"To be without a roof is rather bad ! 

Now, show your Princeton Spirit and your muscle — 

Off with your coats, roll up your sleeves, and hustle!" 

They did it — students, faculty, Trustees, 

And loyal Princeton townsfolk. As the bees 

"In springtime, when the sun with Taurus rides, 

Pour forth their populous youth," where honey hides, 

To store up provender for coming seasons, 

So they industriously swarm; and these 'ns 

Go whistling at their work like navy bo's'ns, 

And nimbly climb to patch the roof, while those 'ns 

Are wielding saw and hammer with a will, 

Or cutting glass blank window frames to fill : 

And soon the trademarks of the vandal Hessian, 

Too expert at his ruinous profession, 

Are all erased, and Nassau Haee, restored, 

Receives again the eager student horde. 

Despatches for the Congress, brief but meaty; 
The war is over, they have signed the Treaty! 
The tidings fly throughout the new born nation, 
And as they go engender jubilation — 
Wide throated cannon, rusty dogs of war, 
Death dealing late, now peace proclaiming roar. 
A million bells peal forth the joyous news, 
With brazen clamor — but, all seeing Muse, 
Say who are these that sullenly refuse 
To join in joy? An army without shoes, 

24 



Half clad, and full of angry discontent, 

(And little else!) : "We don't care half a cent 

For all the treaties ever signed in France — 

What we want 's beef and bread, and shoes and pants ! 

You've got 'em up a tree — who was it treed 'em? 

America is free — who fit for freedom? 

Less din, more dinners ! Well you know we need 'em !" 

So they who bore the brunt of bitter strife 

Who bade farewell to babe and weeping wife, 

Resigning all that's fair and good in life 

To face the belching cannon's deadly flame, 

To pay the shrieking shell's unholy claim, 

The horrors of the camp and stricken field 

Unshaken to endure — and never yield ! 

Unpaid for all their arduous campaigning, 

Small wonder if their patriotism's waning. 

But Congress lacks the wherewithal to pay 'em, 

And Congressmen live in the fear of mayhem. 

Of Powder Plots, and sudden death, and mutiny, 

And after anxious, pocket turning scrutiny 

That proves the coffers wholly impecunious — 

'Twould gravel all the worldly wit of Junius 

To pay an army off, however, willing, 

When in the world you haven't got a shilling — 

Decide at this most critical conjuncture 

The country can't afford to stand for puncture 

Of legislative hides ; and so : "To prove 

Our loyalty," they say, "let's up and move 

The seat of Government away from Philly 

Before these mutineers can knock us silly," 

"But whither shall we flee — I mean, retire?" 

Asks one. The query finds a prompt replier, 

No doubt an old Nassovican: "That's easy! 

We'll want a place that's high and dry and breezy — 

Yet not too dry! — where we can work and play, 

Be dignified as Congress should by day 

And after dinner get a little gay 

Without a lot of meddling folk to say 

They don't exactly understand the way 

Lawmakers are supposed to earn their pay! 

I know a place" — his eyes, his voice grew dreamy, 

As when some youngster spies a tidbit creamy 

Reposing calmly on the pantry shelf 

And hardly can restrain his lower self 

That prompts to sudden seizure of the pelf — 

25 



But then his higher faculties arise 

And bid him means strategic to devise 

To lift the plunder ere the cook gets wise — 

As from the scene of rapine swift he flies, 

Young rapture, kindling, beameth in his eyes — 

"I know a place" — and draws them such a picture 

As to repeat would be but to afflict your 

Nostalgic nerve with pain unnecessarily; 

'Twas Princeton he described at length and, verily. 

With such a theme to wing his arguments 

We cannot wonder that his eloquence 

Prevailed completely, insomuch that soon — 

In 'Eighty-three, the latter part of June, 

We find the Congress duly holding forth 

In that historic edifice Oi<d North ! 

VIII. 

Behold our village quite transmogrified, 

The townsfolk swelling up with proper pride, 

To see their quiet place of habitation 

(Six dozen houses held its population) 

Become the capital of all the nation ! 

Behold the streets — there weren't so many then — 

A thoroughfare for real, live Congressmen, 

And gallant cavalcades (God bless us, neighbors) 

Of stern-faced officers with clanking sabers — 

And Ministers from European Powers 

(In token that they were aware of ours). 

From all the airts adventurers come flocking, 

Till multitudes at Princeton's gates are knocking, 

To "sleep" them all there must have been some shocking- 

We mean to say, no doubt a double locking 

Was deemed advisable with such a rabble on 

The rampage in this Mercer County Babylon. 

The crank who has a loony scheme to urge, 

The dandy, bent on making mighty splurge, 

The shell game artist — one and all converge 

On flustered Princeton as a common focus 

With every brand that's known of hocuspocus. 

From all the countryside about come thronging 

The farmer folk, consumed with itch of longing, 

To get a sight of genuine sassiety — 

It's here in every possible variety, 

Enough to glut the greediest, to satiety — 

And incidentally to get in touch 

26 



With that of which one never has too much, 

And coax the Philadelphia pounds to pass, 

With shillings and with pence, for garden sass; 

Now blood of lambs and sucking pigs is shed, 

And lowing cattle swatted on the head, 

And calves and capons ruthlessly are led 

To sacrificial altars by the said 

Hard hearted, horny handed sons of toil, 

Autochthons of the generous Jersey soil. 

Canst hear the housewife call : "Now, Obadiah, 

Go split some cordwood for my oven fire, 

The gentlemen are coming here to dinner." 

But graceless Obadiah, youthful sinner, 

Has made a hasty exit from the kitchen 

And runs the chances of a lusty switchin' 

To join the innyard roysterers at pitchin' 

Of quoits for pennies. Obadiah pater, 

With many a taproom crony and debater, 

Each mouth of politics a belching crater, 

Is thrashing out the problems that keep greater 

And wiser heads than his well occupied. 

As for the Campus — four-score studes are there — 

We bet the dancing master, D'Orssiere, 

Had larger classes to his holding forth 

Than spouted Greek and Latin in Old North ; 

And sword and epaulette, we do opine, 

Had greater charms than aorist and sine. 

But though the boys' attention was deflected, 

And math and classics woefully neglected, 

Which doubtless made the worthy profs dejected, 

We cannot doubt they gleaned a lot of practical 

Ideas worth much more than the didactical 

Instruction the curriculum prescribed; 

And many an undergraduate imbibed 

Ambition and enduring inspiration 

That played a part in building up the nation. 

Sure, never was Commencement such a spree 

Of nobbiness as this of 'Eighty-three, 

When on the platform in the old First Church 

You couldn't find, no matter how you'd search, 

A single soul but was — or was to be 

In time — a national celebritee. 

For teachers, preachers, warriors were there 

Of name illustrious beyond compare; 

27 



And two of the Origin ai, Trustees, 

The Reverend Johnes and Peartree Smith were these, 

Two Presidents-to-be of Nassau Hau„ 

And two who later on ruled over all; 

And there were seven Signers — count 'em, seven — 

And fortunately for our rhyme, eleven 

Who shared in making that great contribution 

To history, our noble Constitution. 

And Washington, so well doth Ashbel* please 

He fifty guineas gives to the Trustees, 

Who have the hero's portrait done by Peale 

(A dainty way to show what thanks they feel — 

Trustees are highly expert at that game) 

And hang it in the other George's frame. 

And now the Congress emigrates to Maryland, 

And Princeton from a temporary fairyland 

Becomes once more the quiet college town. 

While everybody calmly settles down 

To business — and there is plenty, too 

For everybody, Town and Gown, to do. 

An age of history has run its span 

(It mussed things up right lively as it ran) 

And now the boiler crew is making steam 

To run the engines of the new regime. 

Could Dickinson and Belcher Princeton visit, 

They'd rub their spooky eyes and gasp : "Gee whiz, it 

Can not be possible that — really — is it? 

Why, this is veritable Academe 

Beyond the utmost limits of our dream, 

A scholar's paradise and field Elysian 

Unhinted in our most ambitious vision. 

Had we dared draw, in lines however hazy, 

So fair a picture of the future, 'crazy' 

Would certainly have been the mildest word 

For us, and for the prophecy, 'absurd.' 

What noble architecture — glad we've seen it ! 

A hundred students? Really — do you mean it? 

What wealth of books, and learned apparatus ! 

That's nothing? Surely, fun you're poking at us — 

Don't, even to a spiritus afflatus! 

If you keep on at this rate there's no telling 

To what gargantuan measure you'll be swelling! 



♦Ashbel Green, '83, valedictorian; president, 1812-22. 

28 



Why, there may come a time when half a score 
Of halls like this won't hold you all !" — We've more 
To-day than half a hundred halls, and still 
An overflow of studes the town to fill. — 
He ceases, and the reverend spooks descend 
(As erstwhile Dante and his classic friend) 
Down through the Cannon to the realm below 
Where Princeton souls are harbored. As they go 
In accents measured, dignified and slow 
They call for "locomotives" for their mentor, 
Which roll up from the subterranean center; 
'"Rah ! Tiger ! Sis, boom, ah ! John Witherspoon !" 
The shades depart these glimpses of the moon. 

Now Witherspoon is gathered to his fathers, 

Released from life's vicissitudes and bothers; 

The voice that like a trumpet called to war, 

The hand that Freedom's banner boldly bore, 

The brain that planned a nation — these no more 

Are with the young Republic to inspire 

Upholding hands ; but in men's hearts the fire 

He kindled shall with quenchless ardor burn ! 

He taught the sons of Princeton, and in turn, 

Did their sons from their sires his wisdom learn — 

Until, in our late day, we joyed to bear 

In Woodrow Wilson's accents ringing clear 

The lofty motto, dear to Princeton men, 

Of: "Princeton for the Nation's service!" When, 

Nassovicans, that slogan is forgot, 

Or loses power to make our pulses hot 

With patriotic zeal, let Princeton's name 

Be steeped in blank oblivion, lest shame, 

Defile the banner blazoned with her name ! 

All honor to our Princeton pioneers, 

Who builded solid for the unborn years ; 

To Burr and Belcher, Witherspoon and all 

Who planned and built and cherished Nassau Hall. 

END OF PART ONE OF THE VERSE HISTORY 
OF THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY. 



29 



GLORIES OF NASSAU. 



PART II. 
THE MIDDLE AGES. 
FROM THE END OF PRESIDENT WITHERSPOON'S AD- 
MINISTRATION TO THE ELECTION OF DR. McCOSH. 

1794-1868. 
Across the way from Caria's fabled hills 
Which lovelorn fair Selene nightly fills 
With lambent moon rays that caressing creep 
About Endymion in endless sleep 
(The story's told by that young friend of Shelley 
Who tempts the tripping tongue to " Sheets and Kelly") 
O'erlooking bright Aegean's oft sung wave 
And Isles of Greece that made Lord Byron rave, 
Fair Clio, weary of her labor, sate — 
Kind Clio, she who helped us celebrate 
The glories of Oi,d Nassau's early state — 
And deemed it wise and well to emulate 
The Latmian sleeper. First the lady sought 
Olympus' austere heights, where dwelt and wrought 
(And, quite like simple humans, loved and fought) 
The gods of ancient Greece, whom Homer hymned — 
Those he-gods gay and she-gods rosy limbed; 
And smiled to think how Juno'd played the deuce 
With all the best laid plans of Father Zeus 
(We mix with Latin water oil that's Greek — 
It keeps the rhyme from running with a squeak). 

But where the palace of great Zeus had blazed, 
Long ages gone, was emptiness; and, dazed, 
She wondered at the impious race that razed 
The homes of gods and drove the old gods out — 
You should have seen her : such a pretty pout ! 
Then suddenly the good dame took a notion 
To visit her old haunts in lands Boeotian, 
With one stopover scheduled at the Phocian 
(Does our geography pass muster?) mountain, 
To meet a drink at the Castalian fountain — 
It tasted no more like the old Parnassian 
Refreshment than the creatures, modern fashion, 
Resemble those huge men and bulls of Bashan. 
"Oh, dear," says she, "I'm dry as any pelican," 
And petulant resumes her flight for Helicon. 

30 



Midway, misdoubting modern Hippocrene, 
She paused, firm earth and upper air between 
(A "stabilizer" on her air machine 
Made her of aviators' art the queen 
'Twould turn our aeromen with envy green) 
And north again with equal beating wing 
Resumed her flight — as fast as anything! 
Unhalting as the hourglass sands, the miles 
Dripped from her metric pinions, until whiles 
Where eld Thessalians practised their ill guiles 
She harbored in remote Tempean vale. 

Scarce had her wearied sense begun to fail 

And purple sleep o'erspread her visage pale 

When loud and raucous over hill and dale; 

"Io, wuxtry! Princeton Tigers wallop Yale!" 

Each classic echo takes the joyous sounds, 

From peak to peak (and Greek to Greek) it bounds 

And wakes the weary Muse to wrath — who "Zounds V 

Exclaims, and follows it with "Tare an ouns, 

But this is past enduring and all bounds ! 

Such doings would get any Muse's goat — 

It's worse than women screeching for the vote ! 

Enough to make a perfect lady swear." — 

Just then, inopportune, we made our prayer 

That she, our foretime patroness, would grant 

Repeated favors to us postulant 

And grateful for — "No, sir! I've had enough 

Of this here CoeeEge of New Jersey stuff! 

But — if you really need a chap'ron, mister, 

Why don't you see my less demanded sister?" — 

"Oh, thanks," we said, "ten thousand pardons, madam ! 

Your sisters — really, we'd forgot you had 'em! 

But which one — for, of course, we know you've several 

Would you commend to us? Be sure we never '11 

Betray your confidence—" "Oh, run along, 

And ease your system with a dose of song — 

Take my advice, and mix it good and strong!" 

"Then, madam, since you choose to be so highuppy, 

We'll go and make a contract with Calliope!" 

Caeeiope, of all the Sacred Nine 

Thy province is the nearest to divine; 

To build the epic, rising line by line 

To art's ecstatic heights! The witching lyre 

31 



Of Orpheus, thy son, owed thee its fire 

E'en more than to Apollo, thy son's sire; 

Come, kindle us! Address thee to the theme — 

Up, Muse, and at 'em! Turn on all your steam — 

The paper path lies open, ream on ream ! 

II. 

The ancient order giveth way to new, 

And other forms and faces come to view. 

We left the good ship Nassau with a crew 

Depleted by the 'Seventy-six typhoon 

And mourning for their Captain, Witherspoon. — 

The owners gather on the quarter deck 

And one* declares: "It is no use, by Heck, 

This poor old tub is nothing but a wreck, 

And I'm for scuttling her — " ' Abimelech !" 

They cry; "a millstone round his craven neck, 

And heave him overboard ! Fit food for whales !" 

But saner counsel in the end prevails, 

And without further argument or fuss 

They fell upon a choice unanimous — 

And Sammy Smith, who'd been first mate, 'twas voted 

Should to the higher office be promoted, 

Then Sam'l Stanhope, seaman widely noted 

For manners gentle, language sugar coated, 

Stepped boldly forth: "Now, if you're done confabbin', 

I'll move right over to the boss's cabin. 

Here, boy, just stow away this mess o' dunnage — 

I alius travels light, 'tain't much for tonnage! 

Not mentionin' at all four years I passed, 

From 'Sixty-four to Nine, afore the mast, 

An' then three more when I was 'tutor' classed, 

Six years now I been runnin' this here craft, 

An' knows her every inch, both fore an' aft — 

So I'll just set you gentlemen ashore, 

Weigh anchor, an' get out to sea once more; 

I hain't had forty fathom under keel 

So long I'm dyin' tew see how t'will feel ! 

Ye needn't worry while I'm at the wheel !" 

The Board, somewhat upset by this oration, 



*A wholly imaginary personage, invented for purely fictional and 
ornamental purposes. The splendid reputation of Princeton's trustees 
obviates the apparent necessity of apology. 

32 



Which quite exceeded every expectation, 

Contrived to choke its righteous indignation, 

And, as by way of pleasant innovation, 

Announced, o'er a convivial collation, 

The Captain should receive remuneration 

In current coin of Uncle Sam's new nation — 

Colonial currency and proclamation 

(Whatever that is!) money, pounds and pence, 

Had been replaced by dollars and by cents — 

And where Americans had seen the face 

Of various Georges labelled, "by the grace 

Of God" as Britons' Rex, and Imperator 

Of colonies o'er sea, now each arch traitor 

Who, vi et armis or by foxy scheme, 

Corrals a dollar, hears the eagle scream — 

And dressed in tatters or in silk and satin 

He has at least enough of lore in Latin 

To pass the "pluribus" and "unum" test; 

" 'One out of many' ? Here goes for the rest !" 

Right then it was began the merry scramble 

That marked the end of men's desire to gamble, 

For in the Dollar's train came High Finance, 

That bred the money kings who look askance 

At any proposition based on chance 

And think unless it is a mighty sure thing 

For them, it needs must be a mighty poor thing. 

E'en had old Prexy leaned to speculation, 

The Trustees made him safe against temptation; 

Perhaps it was to guard against this one dread 

They fixed the salary at fifteen hundred! 

Now, turning to the "log" of Alexander,* 
Who, though in one sense he was an outlander, 
Is honored as our sister ship's commander 
(The schooner Seminary, honest freighter, 
Whereof the gen'rous Muse will discourse later)- 
We find (Commencement, Eighteen One) an entry 
That celebrates the leading Princeton gentry ; 
First, there was stout Elias Boudinot, 
Sans whom no Congress had a status quo; 
The soldier, statesman, jurist Colonel Bayard, 
Whom warriors loved and other folks admired; 
Two Jersey Governors of noble fame, 



♦Archibald, the First of the Seminoles. 

33 



Who gave to Paterson and Bloomfield name; 
McWhorter and John Woodhull there were seen, 
And other churchmen — foremost, Ashbel Green; 
Then, Prexy Smith, whose elegance and dignity 
Were equalled only by his calm benignity; 
And John Maclean*, who, ventures Archibald, 

Most liked of all our teachers may be called; 
On easy terms with every branch of science, 
'Twas Chemistry that had his best affiance — 
Whereof, as all who love the truth acknowledge, 
He held the first chair in a U. S. college. 

The poet glories in his well won bays ; 
The warrior, worn and battered, gladly lays 
The sword aside, in peace to end his days 
And bask in sunshine of the public's praise; 
The priest and statesman know how well it pays 
To own a scar or two got in affrays 
Polemic or political, that daze 
The layman, standing at enraptured gaze ; 
We cannot help regarding with amaze 
The blindness of a world that goes its ways, 
Esteems the smoke and disregards the blaze, 
Unkenning heroism's finest phase, 
When in back-stage obscurity it plays, 
And so we honor Belcher, Burr and those 
Who blazed the trail ; and ever brighter glows 
The name of Witherspoon — each freshman knows 
That when it came to routing Princeton's foes 
He wasn't far behind the doughty Poes ! 
'Tis well — we cannot honor them too much — 
And yet, though honest merit needs no crutch, 
And we would not detract one jot or tittle 
From worthy fame, it would be just a little 
More pleasant if, in cutting up the melon 
(The gods, when they endowed the Trojan Helen 
With wealth of loveliness, had some left over 
To put the Greek Cassandra too in clover), 
We cut a juicy collop for the people 
Who fly no flags from reputation's steeple 
To keep them in the eye of the community — 
Mayhap, had they had equal opportunity 



♦Father of our tenth President. 

34 






The solid structures they took pains in building 

Would not have lacked the more pretentious gilding 

That adds no useful qualities, the while 

It does bestow the subtle grace of style. 

We don't hear much of that six decade span 

Of Prexies Smith, and Green, and Carnahan ; 

The college simply kept a steady pace, 

An even gait that might not win a race, 

Yet wouldn't leave the loser in disgrace ! 

And they were heroes of the commonplace, 

The good that greater men than they had gained 

Their wise and faithful stewardship maintained; 

And some philosopher has keenly said it 

Is keeping that gives getting worth and credit, 

And using wisely crowns them both. All through 

This mediaeval era Princeton grew 

More self sufficient, and more fair to view 

III. 

'Twas in the March of Eighteen Hundred Two, 

The sixth day of the month, the mad Fates threw 

The dice to settle whether they should "soak" 

Poor, harried Princeton once more for a joke, 

Or let it go a little while in peace — 

Ten minutes later, Old North burned like grease ! 

Poor Prexy, looking on, quoth : "lam satis 

Of nivis atque dirae grandinis 

Misit Pater, et dextera rubente 

Jaculatus arces — festina lente — 

Je suis ein bischen muddled in my mente — 

Puros amphekes bostruchos — on went he 

The classics quoting, Homer up to Henty. 

"Per Baccho," he exclaimed, "too much is plenty!" 

They saw the poor old man was off his head, 

So took him home and tucked him in his bed. 

The Muse complains she wearies of our fustian 

In such a scene of ruin and combustion — 

But here's a mess requires a pen Sallustian 

To do it justice : Nassau Hall a ruin, 

Sans roof, sans floors, sans windows — just a few in 

To make the desolation more complete 

By contrast ; scenes of sadness that repeat, 

With only one or two small details lacking, 

Such as a mob of burly Hessians stacking 

35 



Their muskets on the Campus — an occasion 

Whereof Princetonians need no persuasion 

To let the mem'ry lapse — at least, suffice: 

It's so redundant to be burned up twice! 

Yet there's this virtue in a conflagration, 

It proves your powers of recuperation, 

As when before a painful operation, 

The thoughtful surgeon, knife in hand, assures you 

That "here is where" he either kills or cures you. 

Behold a hero from the ashes rise! 

With fire of resolution in his eyes, 

The gentle scholar, man of small affairs, 

Less used to utt'ring orders than his prayers, 

Lays down his wonted book, girds on the sword, 

And sallies forth, a soldier of the Lord, 

To levy tribute from each worldly hoard. 

"What Heaven lent," quoth he, "shall be restored 

To Heaven's work!" And bade the glum Trustees 

To send throughout the country urgent pleas 

That he would follow up with words like these — 

We find we have mislaid the document 

We planned to paraphase for this event, 

But this in general was its content : 

It told (as we) the glories of Nassau, 

That ever stood for Learning, Faith and Law — 

Religion, science, civil liberty, 

A hypostatic-welded trinity 

If such there ever was beneath the sun 

Before our signboard era's 3 in I ; 

And ended with the summons, we recall : 

"If you have any decency at all 

You'll tap the till for poor old Nassau Hall !" 

Well, Prexy proved so excellent a drummer — 
His "line of talk" was verily a "hummer" — 
That when he ended up his begging mission, 
Which was a West and Southern expedition, 
And sat him down and knitted up his brows and 
Computed, forty — count 'em — forty thousand 
Simoleons were found to be collected ! 
The Trustees could no longer be dejected, 
The money greased the warp out of the Board, 
And Old North in a jiffy was restored 
To fit condition for the student horde. 

36 



In 'Six they graduated fifty-four, 
And had in college thrice as many more, 
Far better than they'd ever done before, 
And new ones getting ready by the score — 
Too bad there was no Tiger then to roar ! 

IV. 
Now, sing the discontents of Eighteen Seven ! 
What's hell for profs, for Simple Studes is heaven — 
And yet, it was the students that got burned ! 
The cause immediate cannot be learned, 
But from the records clearly it's discerned 
That trouble had been brewing quite a while. 
The college system had got full of bile, 
And when the youngster in the house is bilious, 
Floorwalking's on the Cards for P. Familias; 
Unless the cure is early gone about, 
There's pretty sure to be a "breaking out." 
Alas, alas! And must it ever be 
While patients suffer doctors disagree? 
Doc Smith, who's more of nurse than of physician, 
But wears his heart in just the right position 
To help his head detects the bad condition 
His youthful charge is in; and calm reflection 
Upon the various methods of correction 
Convinces him the symptoms indicate 
A dose of calomel, and then to wait 
While nature takes her course — a gentle purging 
To thin the blood and check its hot insurging. 

Just then there comes a knocking at the door, 

And enters one who with a mighty roar 

Announces, quite as grandly as you please : 

"I'm from the Board of Health— that is, Trustees! 

You see this badge ?"— . "My eyes are good, Inspector !" — 

"Don't you get fresh with me, old cove ! By Hec-tor, 

I'm getting weary of such diagnoses, 

And fooling 'round with your old fashioned doses! 

That kid—" —"Confound you, sir, this is outrageous"— 

"That kid looks like his trouble was contagious—"— 

"It's nothing of the sort ! What do you mean, sir, 

By—" — "Nothing but a spell of quarantine, sir! 

We'll take the kid and care for him with pleasure"— 

"You shall not have my darling— little treasure !" 

In short, there was a conflict of authority, 

37 



And Prexy was a powerless minority; 
The Trustees, having numbers, were in fair way, 
As numbers always are, to have it their way; 
But while the sad nurse wept upon the stairway 
And just as they were sitting back serene 
Upon their hollow victory to preen, 
And kindling each his favorite flor fina, 
The deus popped right out of his machinal 
Some crafty undergradute Catilina* 

The balance of whose intellectual ballast 
Had been disturbed by reading too much Sallust 
Resolved he'd not be trampled in the dust, 
But make his watchword "Liberty, or bust!" 
He organized a band of kindred spirits, 
And thus exhorted them : 'Now, look-a-here — it's 
Disgraceful and ridiculous for us, 
Whose fathers fought for freedom, to be thus 
Deprived of all the pleasures of existence 
Without a word or action of resistance ! 
There must be something wrong with our psychology, 
To answer insults with — a loud doxology! 
Excuse me, gentlemen, if I should seem 
In words so Presbyterian to blaspheme, 
You know the provocation is extreme ! 
Shall Liberty for us be but a dream, 
A hypnogogical ephemerality, 
Articulate inconsequentiality, 
Obfuscatory transmogrification, 
Extravaganza of hallucination, 
Approximating unattainability, 
Magnificent exemplar of futility?" 
Haec ubi dixit, they applauded long 
And loud, which seemed to make him doubly strong 
As he harangued the swiftly kindling throng ; 
He bade them, with Bozzaris' vocal fire, 
Talk till they saw the last armed foe expire- 
Like Spartacus before his gladiators, 
He warned them of the fate prepared for traitors, 
And bade each one be like a little moon, 



*"Nobili genere natus fuit magna vi animi et corporis, sed ingenio 
malo pravoque, Huic ab adulescentia bella intestina, caedes, rapinse, 
discordia civilis grata fuere. Animus audax, subdolus, varius."— C. 
Sallusti Crispi "Catilina." 

38 



Reflecting rays of light from Witherspoon : 

"All those," he cried, "who would submit to tyranny, 

Say 'aye' " — dead silence — "I don't seem to hear any I 

The vote's unanimous. Now, let's get busy, 

And frame up something that '11 make 'em dizzy!" 

At length, when they'd completed all decisions, 

They stocked Old North with muchness of provisions, 

Blocked up the windows, barred the doors and hurled 

Defiance at the Profs and all the world 

So lustily it seemed that human tonsils 

Could not survive the test unsplit. Two Consuls 

Presided o'er a Roman State in little 

That varied from its pattern not a tittle, 

With Conscript Fathers and the whole machinery — 

An odd effect, when set in Jersey scenery ! 

Alas ! 'Twas ever thus ! No State erected 

By human hands was ever so perfected 

(No matter how defended and protected 

From foes without) as to be quite immune 

To dissolution by the picayune 

Dissensions that disrupt the nervous garrison ; 

Between the two there is no just comparison. 

In this case each beleaguered Princeton Roman 

Who would not yield to professorial foeman 

And undismayed could view the front of famine, 

So long as there remained one can of salmon, 

Would lose his head when some one muttered "Gammon" 

In comment on his words of light and cheer, 

Or disobeyed his orders with a jeer — 

When no one wants to row, but all to steer, 

The chance for any to do either's slim, 

And all aboard are likelier to swim ! 

It may have been a case of frosted feet, 

It may have been a keen desire to eat, 

It may have been because of jealousy — 

It may have been a union of the three; 

But whether it was one, or all combined, 

Their strong defence at last was undermined, 

And marching forth, the picture of dejection, 

Beneath the yoke, with painful genuflection 

They crooked the pregnant hinges of their knees 

Before the Faculty and the Trustees. 

Alas! How fallen from their high estate, 

How unlike all they'd hope to celebrate! 

39 



The Trustees promptly half the school suspended, 
And thus the Great Re — bel — li — on was ended. 

V. 

About this time it will surprise you, maybe, 

To learn that Alma Mater — had a baby! 

The subject's rather delicate to handle, 

For while the ladies dearly love to dandle 

A chubby, rosy, cooing infant, they 

Will blush and bridle if you chance to say 

The simplest thing in reference to the way 

That every single one of us is hurled 

Into the maelstrom of this crazy world — 

How silly to make such a feckless mystery 

Of Chapter I. in every human's history — 

It's difficult to bear with a society 

That formulates in terms of such dubiety 

Its definition of that pest, propriety! — 

The baby's papa, so we're told, was Piety, 

The perfect mate of Learning; but the truth 

Is that the maid had flirted with a youth 

(As once Archytas with those waves Illyrian 

That made his ending tragic, quite Shakespearian), 

With ardor something more than Presbyterian; 

His name was General Assembly, and 

The title may have won her heart and hand, 

The gentler sex has always been notorious 

For — but we do not wish to seem censorious. 

At any rate, whatever 'twas that caught her, 

Our Alma Mater had a little daughter — 

A lovely lass; and yet, we never thought her 

"More lovely than her lovely mother." — She 

Our first love was, and our last love shall be. 

The daughter was, we should explain to all, 

Miss Seminary Theological. 

The Wheel of Time rolls on 'mid changing scene, 
And Smith is gone, and Doctor Ashbel Green 
Is at the helm of Nassau's speed machine, 
Keyed up for pace and full of gasolene — 
Not Ashbel, but the storage tank we mean. 
As chauffeur he's a little nervous, though, 
And not quite sure how fast he ought to go- 
Though pretty sure he'd better take it slow 
At first, and get acquainted with the car — 

40 



You know what tricky things gas wagons are, 

And riding staidly in a parson's chaise 

You don't learn much about their pesky ways. 

He had to keep one eye upon the road, 

And one upon his lively student load; 

He'd things to watch too numerous to mention, 

And couldn't give to any full attention, 

For if upon the road he kept his mind, 

The passengers would raise a row behind, 

And if he looked around, the car, bewitched, 

Would try to climb a tree or else get ditched; 

And every time she gave a sudden lurch, 

The doctor wished that he was back in church, 

Conducting peacefully the Sabbath service — 

This work would make a man of marble nervous. 

One mile post and another glided by, 
And Ashbel from the corner of his eye 
Observed with pleasure that the last one bore 
The legend numeral One-Eight-One-Four, 
When — suddenly there came a blinding crash, 
Close followed by a most terrific crash, 
As if the universe had gone to smash, 
And turned the expedition into hash. 
"Great God! — We thank Thee for our blessings," Ash- 
Bel Green exclaimed; "I guess I have been dreaming!" 
And with his reverend coat tails wildly streaming 
Upon the frosty breeze — it was a night 
In January — ran with all his might 
To Nassau Haix — 'twas just across the way, 
For what was called the Dean's house in our day, 
Was then and had been from the first the President's, 
And was until MacCosh took up his residence 
In Prospect and in Eighteen Seventy-Nine — 
And viewed a scene — well, not at all divine; 
Resembling to the very smallest detail 
The place whereof old Dante used to retail 
Such realistic anecdotes you'd swear 
He must have known his way around down there — 
'Twas in the room next to the Hall of Prayer, 
And brimstone odors reeked upon the air. 
If Guy Fawkes could have seen the place, he'd not 
Have been so stuck on his Gunpowder Plot ! 
To match the theme our feeble verses fail, 
Let sober, quoted praise conclude the tale; 

41 



"The President acted with so much vigor and judgment 
in discovering and punishing the perpetrators that 
he had no serious trouble afterward."* 

To scenes of strife the Muse is getting partial, 

So while the battle din resounds afar shall 

We spare the space for one more chapter martial; 

Did Princeton's youngsters rn the peace flags trample, 

Their elders had not set a good example ! 

In 'Fourteen Scott, the hero of that age, 

Was present at Commencement, on the stage 

A battered son of wars come home for patching, 

Who little dreamed what he would there be catching, 

But able to sit -up and sip his Steero. 

The boys of course were wild to see the hero, 

While he, no doubt, who'd had enough of battle, 

Enjoyed their youthful interest and prattle — 

Until the lad who spoke the valedictory 

Made reference to Winfield's recent victory 

And, turning to the blushing hero halted 

His Hall made eloquence, and in exalted 

And flaming diction, passionate and Pyrrhic, 

Bombarded him with praises panegyric — 

Quoth Winfield : "Rather twenty L,undy's Lanes 

Than one such charge as Mr. Mcllvaine's !"$ 

VI. 

As when a stream that stems from limpid fountain 

In craggy fastnesses of some far mountain 

Flows forth and, pulsing with ecstatic thrill, 

Embarks upon its quest to help to rill 

The saline vastitude of that big bowl 

Wherein th' illimitable oceans roll — 

"The umplumbed, salt, estranging" seas — it creeps 

Through forest shades like stalking beast, then leaps 

With flash and fury into space — then sleeps 

In darkly glooming and mysterious deeps 



♦The "Big Cracker" was made from the hub of an old wagon 
wheel, loaded with powder. Its explosion cracked the walls, knocked 
out most of the windows in Old North, and drove a piece of the 
infernal machine itself through the door of the Prayer Hall. 



JBloomfield Mcllvaine, Princeton, '14; A. M., 1818. Died, 1826. 

42 



Before the final march of its full tide 

In stately measure where the great ships ride: 

So is our narrative diversified. 

It's fun to shoot the rapids, and to guide 

Your birchen bark through labyrinthine channels 

Where any slip may ruin your best flannels; 

And yet at times it's pleasanter to steer 

Your craft into some open, placid mere 

And know that rocks and snags are nowhere near, 

And you can drift without a thing to fear. 

So now Calliope, who's conned our course 

(Her seamanship we trust you will endorse) 

Lolls idly in our leisurely canoe, 

With nothing in particular to do; 

In Eighteen-fifteen, after all this Stygian 

Upheaval, Princeton College "got religion." 

Of course Old Nassau always was religious, 

Her faith and works were equally prodigious ; 

But latterly her zeal had fallen off, 

And students had been even heard to scoff 

At sacred things — who thought it fine to drench 

Themselves in sophistry and morals French — 

Perhaps too much had made their palates dull. 

At any rate, there came a welcome lull, 

And "like the silent dew of heaven," wrote 

Our good friend Ashbel, whom we love to quote, 

"The influence divine descended." Note 

How great a change may swiftly come to pass; 

The leaven spread through all the student mass, 

Until where late was striving and commotion, 

Each student heart's a temple of devotion — 

Instead of plotting mischief on the stairs, 

The Soph keeps to his room and says his prayers, 

While from the other side of town came flocking 

A horde of Seminoles, who, softly knocking 

At Old North doors went in to see their neighbors, 

And never rested from their pious labors, 

Till two score objects of their hot exertion 

' Gave favorable witness of conversion !" 

Ah, those were "halcyon" days for Freshmen, who 
Could sally forth without a ton or two 
Of snowballs trickling down into each shoe; 
And those were "halcyon" days in dining hall, 

43 



When grub stayed on the table, not the wall; 
And those were "halycon" days upon the Campus 
(To find a rhyme for that, with sense, would cramp us, 
For what have halcyon days to do with '"grampus," 
And we've already rung in Boss Melampus!) — 
When you could leave your wheel* outside the entry 

And know it would be safe without a sentry; 
And those were "halcyon" days for the professors, 
Who for the nonce became father confessors, 
And picked up pointers that in time of need 
Were useful: those were halcyon days indeed! 

Of colleges as nations, that one's blessed 

That gives the driven chronicler a rest; 

When life serenely runs in well worn channels, 

There's lack of spice and color in its annals, 

And histories have "go" when they record 

An era given up to fire and sword; 

Although we pity lands that lie a-bleeding, 

They really make most entertaining reading. 

The closing years of Green's administration 

Until he handed in his resignation 

(In 'Twenty-two) were peaceful and constructive, 

Of students and financial strength productive. 

No more in middle watches of the night 

Were proctors rudely roused and made to fight; 

No more within the bonfire's baleful glare 

Insurgent demons dance and shout and swear; 

The brick paved corridors of North no more 

Resound with cannon balls rolled on the floor — 

The dove of peace returns to Academe, 

And hovers o'er its crystal flowing stream 

Beside whose waters, recently all muddy, 

The sated trouble makers rest and study. 

Rekindled, trimmed and filled, the Lamp of Learning 

With lambent ardor as of old is burning, 

And Nassau's friends, with confidence restored, 

Once more dip deep into the treasure hoard ; 

And so we come, with everything serene, 

To write our "Finis" to the reign of Green. 

VII. 

Green gone, the Trustees labored to entice 



♦Model of 1815. 

44 









A well known Southron; Dr. John H. Rice, 

To be their hired man; and patiently 

They waited till, March 14, 'Twenty-three 

(Meanwhile Professor Lindsley was elected 

Vice-President, and told he'd be expected 

To run the ranch until the new boss came), 

Doc wrote : "Dear Mistress Nassau — lovely name ! — 

Your note of recent date has come to hand, 

But though to me your wish is a command, 

I must decline your gracious invitation, 

Vouchsafing just a word in explanation: 

Although on hearing it you'll 'wish me fu'ther,' 

I must confess the truth — / love another.'* 

"That day" she "read no more"; we've all been warned 

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," 

And having made advances thus it shocked her 

To be turned down by the ungallant doctor. 

And then she thought of Lindsley, whom she'd treated 

A wee bit shabbily herself and seated 

A little lower than the angels, but 

Enough above the common herd to jut 

Into the dim lit intermediate stratum 

Wherein (please note this sociologic datum, 

Injected as a parenthetic breather) 

You get the bad of each, the good of neither; 

But Philip didn't care for love warmed over, 

And into something of a rage he drove her 

By frankly saying so. "You horrid man " 

She cried — and wooed the Rev. Carnahan. 

He yielded to her blandishments, and soon 

Was perched upon the chair of Witherspoon. 

Alas, how often ere the honeymoon 

Is over, sweet bells jangle out of tune! 

And once penned up in wedlock's barbwire fences 

Full many a man (too late) comes to his senses, 

And finds the wires are barbed with false pretenses! 

The matrimonial 'chase leads over ditches 

(When Madame lays aside her boughten switches) 

And obstacles to shake the stoutest heart 

(When she her wondrous toilette takes apart, 

Revealing Nature's heavy debt to Art) ; 



*Dr. Rice devoted himself to work in the South, and later occupied 
the chair of systematic theology in Hampden-Sidney College. 

45 



It was not long ere our new benedict 

Began to think he had been meanly tricked. 

He found his lady 'neath her rouge anaemic — 

To put the case in diction academic, 

The studes were few — there were not more than eighty; 

The income small — the funds were far from weighty. 

And ere he'd been there any time at all 

Poor Prexy wished he'd never had the call, 

Or hadn't been an easy mark, to fall 

For it ; and would have quit, beyond a doubt, 

If young Professor John Maclean, devout 

Princetonian, an eager soul, had not 

Said : "Dr. Carnahan, I tell you what ! 

If you go back on us, we're in for trouble — 

It's heavy hauling: Why not hitch up double? 

Let's cut the work in half, and multiply 

Results — no mathematics is so 'high' 

As that of friendship ! They were mighty nervy 

To come at you with such a lowdown, scurvy, 

Unchristian proposition ! Take a brace — 

Remember what we owe this dear old place.* 

And let us do our best to bring upon her 
Full meed of glory, fend off all dishonor — 
Let's show 'em what the Princeton Spirit is, 
Peel off our coats, and get right down to biz !" 
"By Jove," says Prexy ; "furthermore, Gee Whizz ! 
You've got the right idea, son — you're talking 
Good Democratic politics ! No balking 
For me henceforth : and I'm a feeble guesser 
If you shall not in time be my successor!" 

They did not wait upon the lagging dollars, 
But set about recruiting able scholars ; 
The customary order was reversed, 
For in the common case the coin comes first. 
But these two clever Js, our James and John, 
Were bigger than the laws of Pol. Econ. — 
Or else they had a special, private - brand, 
Whereby they made supply create demand. 
Well, Captain Carnahan, salt soaked and tanned, 
With (glasses on his nose and) glass in hand, 
Upon the bridge took up his proper stand, 



*Both were graduates; Carnahan of 'oo, Maclean of *i6. 

46 



And carefully the whole horizon scanned. 

So now behold the good ship Nassau manned 

(And johnmacleaned and jimmycarnahanned) 

With master navigators, such a band 

As never sailed the seas before nor since — 

A learned lot, and every one a prince 

Of his profession — with three Alexanders 

(This story may be duller than "Moll Flanders," 

And yet me must remind our reprimanders 

True History to Romance never panders — 

We cannot help it, though we're offle sorry) — 

And there was Albert Dod, and Hart and Torrey, 

With Halsey, Patton, Vethake, Howell, Giger, 

And Hargous, Jaeger, Hope — and that great Tiger 

(We trust that's not irreverent locution 

For him who nursed the Smithson institution) 

Who had to leave his humble college station 

In answer to a summons from the nation.* 

Hail, Henry ! They who wondered little guessed 

What secrets those thin threads of wire should wrest 

From nature's strongbox — how that strange appliance 

Should open wondrous ways to Art and Science. 

But most as Princeton men we love to dwell 

On him, heroic, when 'twas planned to sell 

The fruitage of that noble gift, and barter 

Its spirit-treasures : never Christian martyr 

Confronted with so noble mien defiant 

The leaping beasts as he the "Little Giant" — 

'Twas Henry's wit and iron resolution 

That saved the spirit of the Institution 

From base, materialistic prostitution. 

Our narrative is somewhat too discursory; 
If Princeton had been formerly a nursery 
For patriots, so now for liberal arts 
And sciences — and brave and loyal hearts 



♦"With extreme reluctance he departed from Princeton, called by 
his country to lay down the arms with which as a soldier in the 
ranks he had been waging his warfare against ignorance, and take 
command of the intellectual forces to be summoned and organized by 
him in the same glorious cause."— Edward N. Dickerson, "Joseph Henry 
and the Magnetic Telegraph," an address delivered at Princeton, 
June 16, 1885. 

47 



Served her as well, and brought her equal fame 
With those forerunners of illustrious name. 
Where Witherspoon and Burr had cast the seed, 
They reaped a harvest wonderful indeed — 
For half of those who taught in Nassau Hau, 
Were sons of hers who heard her rally call. 
In 'Forty-One, 'tis timely to record, 
Firm planted in the sacred campus sward, 
The Princeton Cannon took its honored place, 
Immortal emblem of a hardy race. 

VIII. 

Now, Muse, attune thy harp to sterner strains, 

Let martial ardor fire thy swelling veins — 

Too long through peaceful scenes our course has run : 

Sing us the Barring Out of 'Fifty-One ! 

'Tis April, and a quiet vernal day, 

Not such as seemeth fitting for the fray; 

The Faculty, assembled for a lecture — 

The topic of it we can but conjecture, 

Perhaps 'twas math perhaps 'twas architecture; 

'Tis not on record, so you can select your 

Own favorite — was safely occupied, 

The proctors drowsed ; when from a window wide 

Flung open in a room of Nassau Hall 

Came forth a strange, resounding battle call, 

Far carrying as that historic bawl 

Of Grecian herald 'neath the Trojan wall 

(Consult the Iliad and Juvenal) — 

And from this preconcerted cyclone centre, 

With spreading force that would have made old Stentor 

Tear hair and swear in envy of its ventor, 

(And eke in pure Hellenical profanity, 

The one effective balm for injured vanity). 

Tell, Muse, the words that issued from his lips ! 

A cabalistic, thrice repeated "Chips." 

He must have been an uptodatish joker, 

For those were prehistoric times in poker. 

Now as the raucous the horrendous sound 
O'er all the quiet Campus echoes 'round, 
The elmed quadrangle, silent just before, 
Resounds with all the horrid din of war. 
Forth from a nearbystanding lumber yard 
Stout beams are borne by raiders under guard; 

48 



Swiftly are doors and windows stoutly barred — 
Sudden as Aphrodite, lovely maid, 
Leaped into life, up goes the barricade. 
Now from the belfry tower of Old North 
Defiant issues brazen clamor forth; 
While these 'ns eager handed ring the bell, 
Those man the inways, boarders to repel. 

Now, too presumptuous youths, ye well may tremble! 

Behold the august forces that assemble, 

Of proctor, tutor and professor sage, 

Each academic bosom hot with rage, 

Each lofty brow its mask of calm benignity 

Cast off, in witness of offended dignity. 

"The tumult and the shouting dies." Without, 

The hosts besieging hesitate in doubt; 

Within, the hosts beleaguered breathless wait 

And on the chance of battle speculate. 

Meanwhile, from all the neighborhood about, 

With eager question and excited shout, 

The townsmen one and all come flocking out, 

Expecting from the clamor rising higher 

To see the ancient college all on fire, 

Or hear of some catastrophe most dire; 

They come, converging on the college green, 

For Princeton's townfolk ever have been keen, 

Good souls, to see whatever could be seen. 

And now the learned dons in hot debate, 

With words not lacking either heat or weight, 

And quite unlike their usual sedate 

And academical deliberation 

Are arguing the novel situation. 

A. counsels prudence as the better part, 

B. thinks delay but gives the rascals heart. 
Another says, "There's not the slightest doubt 
The wisest way would be to starve 'em out !" 
One would the graceless miscreants expel, 
Though how to do it he declines to tell; 
And one would instant storm the citadel. 
The older men would seek relief in prayer, 
The younger ones are tempted sore to swear. 
Now in the midst of all this futile bicker, 
Some gaping yokel in the crowd must snicker — 
The townsmen had been drawing nigh and nigher— 

49 



And rouse the latent but impressive ire, 
Tantaenae irae; angry humors dwell 
In bosoms academic, truth to tell. 

But hold ! Just as they gather for the rush, 

On all the vast assembly falls a hush ! 

Each step is halted, every eye directed 

At something simultaneously detected 

And, to put it mildly, quite unexpected. 

Forth from a window on the upper floor — 

For quite impassable is every door — 

Comes, dangling at a slender cable's end, 

A human body — now may heaven send 

Those profs its aid ! They recognize a friend, 

And when the body rests upon the ground, 

With great anxiety they gather 'round 

The prostrate form. But, though confused of head, 

Their hapless colleague still is far from dead. 

Without a word he struggles to his feet, 

Choked up with wrath, and white as winding sheet: 

"By all the gods of war," he cries, "I swear. 

The implements Durnerian* shall ne'er 

From this caput abscise a single hair 

Till those young scamps are routed out o' there!" 

And then he told how, hearing one young hellion 

Inform another of the planned rebellion, 

Within the hall he'd taken secret station 

And witnessed every act of preparation; 

How, when in manner calm, but phrases terse 

He bade the rebels to their rooms disperse, 

They laughed his high authority to scorn, 

Though one, in Middle Ages better born, 

Declared it would be jolly fun to boil 

His worthless carcass in a vat of oil. 

At length, unable better to devise, 

They hit upon a happy compromise; 

The rebels gave up all idea of mayhem, 

On promise that he never would betray 'em; 

Whereto he gave his solemn bond and pledge, 

And then was lowered o'er a window's edge, 

As hath been told. — He ended his narration, 

And all his auditors with indignation 



♦This "ad" is a free gift to those ancient and honorable craftsmen, 
the Durners, of Nassau street. 

50 



Declared they would avenge this bold affront, 
Or die in trying to perform the stunt. 

IX. 

And now with reckless valor the assaulters, 

Who would not stop for half a score Gibraltars, 

Rush headlong at the well defended fort, 

Whose garrison is eager for the sport; 

And flaming in the battle's very van 

Is one who seemeth more than mortal man — 

A relic of some ancient fighting clan. 

Who chanted Latin verses as he ran: 

The Simple Studes retort in Anglo-Saxon 

That would delight the heart of Stockton Axson. 

And now the red foamed battle billow breaks, 

And now Oi<d North on its foundation quakes ; 

And stones and curses hurtle through the air, 

And clubs and fists are busy everywhere, 

Descending quite impartially on pates 

Of learned profs and undergraduates ; 

And now extinguished is the lantern's spark, 

And still the conflict rages in the dark, 

With flash of giant crackers and with shriek 

And groans of wounded warriors who seek 

Oblivion of pain for every sore 

By harrowing the foe with twenty more. 

Not one of them who thinks to run away, 
That he may "live to fight another day" — 
But Soph and Prof, both hunger for the fray. 
Tugacissimi, ideoque tarn," 
The Roman cries, "diu superstites — Damn!" 
And plunges headlong in the thickest jam. 
The while the battle rages dread and dour 
High overhead within the belfry tower 
The tortured bell with meterless cacophonies 
Is rivalling the lines of Aristophanes. 

And now while up the well defended stairway 
The dauntless stormers struggle to make their way, 
With blows and buffets, through a narrow fairway, 
Thanks to the labors of a crafty scout 
The garrison gets comfort from without — 
Supplies of water and of whiskey sent 
By those who gladly such assistance lent, 

51 



Themselves excluded from the fray, content 

If they may only serve by proxy. Mem,; 

They heat the water, and the whiskey them. 

The H2 O upon the foes' heads thrown, 

The spiritus frumenti warmed their own. 

Th' assailants pause — the odds are too unequal; 

They waver — halt — retreat. And now, the sequel ; 

The hours flew by apace until that gray 

And chilly one that's neither night nor day, 

When even Gotham's famous Great White Way 

Is slacking up (so those who know it say — 

We don't, ourselves); the hour that heralds dawn 

And from the upper windows faces drawn 

And anxious, peeping out, behold the lawn 

Where once the Hessians camped, all thickly strewn 

With proctors swearing softly at the moon; 

And now along the old hall's shady side 

With cautious care are windows open pried, 

And down the dangling ropes dark figures glide, 

Then rush for refuge into East and West. 

Meanwhile within the leaguered hall the rest 

Remove the barrier at the door and rally* 

A sorry crowd, to make one final sally — 

A few were caught, but most they got away. 

Thus ends the story of that glorious day — 

Except, by way of supplement postscriptum, 

The Faculty took one or two and shipped 'em 

To wider spheres of usefulness, with hope 

Their social talents might have freer scope; 

It seems the youthful rascals' sheer audacity 

(To make an end of our condemned loquacity) 

Had paralyzed their punitive capacity. 

X. 

Beyond our study windows as we sit 

O'erspreading paper acres with our writ, 

A sylvan panorama is displayed, 

With alternating vistas, light and shade — 

Wherein, a parable of life discerning, 

We watch the sapling youthfully upyearning; 

His elder brothers in their forest pride, 

Sky scaling monarchs of the woodland wide — 

And here a bare boughed veteran is spied, 

Who, breasting sturdily the seasons' tide, 

The gales of untold winters has defied, 

52 



And now approaches fast the Great Qivide — 

Nearby, a hero fallen where he died. 

You wonder how this comes into the story? 

It's not a very cryptic allegory ! 

We're thinking of those fine old fellows who — 

As youngsters in the Roaring Forties knew 

Sir Carnahan — to-day, alas, how few! 

When next reunion season comes around 

And Princeton's sons from everywhere are bound 

To visit their old foster mother — say, 

What better fitting honor could we pay 

To Princeton of the past than give a day 

To them? A "Carnahan reunion" would 

Put those old timers ten years to the good ! 

Let's get 'em out and put 'em at the head 

Of the Commencement Peerade; surely, led 

By such an Old Guard of the Oldest Boys, 

'Twould be the very Best and Biggest Noise 

That ever passed the gate of Osborne Field — 

And then (the selfish motive stands revealed) 

Just think what yarns of Princeton's past they'd yield! 

Quoth Prexy Jim, one day in 'Fifty-three, 
"Now 'come into the garden,' Mac, with me, 
And tell me what you think about my tree — 
It doesn't thrive as I would wish; you see, 
Though rooted in rich Presbyterian soil, 
And cared for quite according unto Hoyle, 
It doesn't — what? Those scars upon the bark? 
Well, really, just a superficial mark — 
We tried to do some grafting in the dark, 
With cuttings from the sister plants of knowledge 

(Of Medicine and Law) ; but genus College — " 

"Why, Doctor, you can never make that tree 

Bear fruitage as a uni-ver-si-tee, 

And my advice is simply : Let it be ! 

It's strong and healthy, growing nicely, too; 

I'd let it go its gait, if I were you! 

Just keep the soil stirred up about its roots, 

They'll send the warm sap coursing through its shoots — 

And give it air and sunlight in full measure, 

To load the boughs with mellow, ripened treasure. 

Don't force it, but let Art and Nature both 

Contribute to the miracle of growth. 

The finest bearing of the campus tree 

53 



Is not the high professional degree, 
But just the good old fashioned one, A. B. 
Say; just let me take charge of it — you'll see!" 
When Carnahan sent in his resignation, 
Maclean became the boss of Nassau's nation. 

XI. 
About to launch into another canto, 
We're halted by mine Muses in a chant: "Oh, 
You far outdo the horrors of Otranto !" 
Who then, without a glance of pity my way, 
Set out with mocking laughter on the highway — 
Or rather, as they took the air route, flyway — 
To ancient Greece. — So, now the Muse is flown, 
We'll have to make our final sprint alone. 

In 'Fifty-five, lest Prexy think life tame, 

His "baphometic fire baptism" came, 

And once again Old North was tried by flame; 

The blaze might kindle us to oratory 

(Of sorts) if it were not a thrice told story — 

So e'en the wonders of Aurora Bore- 

Alis fall on those, dwellers 'neath the Pole, 

Who never have to pay admittance toll 

To see its panoramic film unroll 

With glories that intoxicate the soul 

(Though unconnected with the flowing bowl). 

They simply said: "I hear Old North's ablaze," 

As who would say : " 'Twill rain ere many days," 

And unexcited went their wonted ways. 

The way that history repeats is funny; 

In early Princeton it was fire and money 

And student revolutions — such a trinity 

(Or, to avoid the lingo of divinity, 

For which we have the most perverse affinity, 

Say: what a paradoxical concinnity) 

To tax the presidential masculinity 

With labors fit for "Iron Man" McGinnity ! 

But this is bordering on asininity — 

No blaze could more compare with "Johnny's" ardor 

Than birch canoe with latest launched Cunarder ; 

And when it came to the Appeal to Pocket, 

He fitted like a candle in its socket — 

With all the witching art of that old villyun, 

54 



Pied Piper, lured the dollars in cotillon 
Until he had corralled near half a million;* 

And finally, his record to enhance, 
No base rebellion ever got a chance 
To sprout while "Johnny," keeper of the peace, 
Was on the job; he loved to play police, 
And prowl about the Campus in the night— 
They say he was a most amazing sight, 
Seen by his own dark lantern's fitful light- 
In beaver hat, and cloak, and huge goloshes.. 
Ejaculating pious Boshes and By Goshes ; 
And this was not his only oddish way — 
He used to call upon the boys by day, 
And cure their souls, give good advice, and pray. 

Who "takes his pen in hand" to write of things 

Contemporaneous may soar with wings 

Unfettered, boldly claiming full dominion 

O'er his own staked out corner of opinion ; 

And he who flies his literary falcon 

With any sort of huntsman's craft at all can 

Select a subject so far in the past 

Whereat to make his literary cast 

That he need bother with no other fitness 

Than that of art, and fear no living witness 

To rise up, like poor Banquo's hoary wraith, 

And charge the author with a breach of faith — 

But he of all the scribbling clan needs pity 

Whose work, though it were wise at once and witty, 

Yet, dealing with events whereof there linger 

Some actors, keen to point th' accusing finger, 

And say: "This wretch takes liberties with history! 

Why, I was there myself, and" — It's a mystery 

How many "sole authentic" versions rise 

To prove the printed one a web of lies; 

As many truths of history there be 

As of survivors — and no two agree. 

We hate the Brotherhood of Ananias, 

Our aim is pure, and high as Mt. Elias, 

Quite free from prejudice and conscious bias; 

So, rounding up Maclean's administration, 

We beg forbearance of the congregation: 



♦Despite the panic and "hard times" of '57- 

55 



We pray you, don't be finicky or techy 

If in our closing lines we're somewhat sketchy. 

The college flourished mightily and grew 

More deeply rooted, and more fair to view. 

'Twas constantly acquiring something new, 

To make "traditions" for our later crew, 

Whereof the following are just a few: 

In 'Fifty-nine an undergraduate editor 

Determined to be Alma Mater's creditor, 

And put the songs of Princeton in a book; 

But when for matter he began to look, 

And ran the Campus carols down to earth, 

He found of native songs an utter dearth, 

And naught but alien melodies to edit — 

The fount of song was barren, so he fed it 

(As one pours pails of water down a pump 

To start the stream forthflowing with a jump). 

Says he, with rather comical severity 

"You fellers aren't square dealing with prosterity! 

Our sons, when they begin to come along, 

Will surely think that there was something wrong 

With us if we bequeath to them no song. 

Tune every harp and every Princeton voice/' 

He urged; let them with one accord rejoice 

In praise of their old dads"— "Hi ! That's the dope," 

A freshman cried; "you'll pardon me; I hope, 

For butting in, but" — Scribbling on his cuff, 

He read the words of Old Nassau." — "Hot stuff," 

They cried, and cheered the freshman with a vim — 

And thus was born old Princeton's battle hymn.* 



♦"Songs of Old Nassau," 1859, was edited by Andrew J. Hetrick, 
'60. "Old Nassau," by H. P. Peck, '62, with the noble air by Carl 
Langlotz, teacher of German from '57 to '69, is at page 18. Songs were 
contributed by studes, grads and profs. A Latin jingle "adapted 
to Nassau Hall," "in Doodle Yankee cantandum," signed G. M. G., 
'41," is evidently from the pen of George Musgrave Giger, professor 
of Latin from '54 to '65. There is a "Cannon Song," a parody of 
«'Excelsior" by Henry C. Alexander, '54; "The Horn That Once 
Through Nassau's Halls," by the same parodist; "The College Bell," 
by the author of "Old Nassau," and a number of glees and catches 
celebrating the college life of the time and the glories of earlier days. 
The compositions have not always the literary, formal excellence of 
modern day student work, but they have an air of spontaneity and 
sincerity, youth and fire. Other musical achievements of the time 
were the adoption of the cheer, about '6o, and the inauguration of 
Senior Singing in '65. 

5<? 



XII. 
An April day in Princeton— you who read 
(If any have survived so far) will need 
No prompting of the memory; the phrase, 
Untrimmed, gives second life to golden days 
Of your fled youth as down the vista'd ways 
Of recollection longingly you gaze: 
The soft, the vernal airs; the silver haze 
O'er yonder valley, light as fairy's wing, 
A curtain soon to rise, disclosing Spring, 
A laughing nymph, about to venture forth 
And drive back to his cold cave in the North 
The latest ling'ring churl of Winter, while 
Beneath her waving wand the waters smile, 
The banners of the Brown host quit the scene, 
Before th' advancing army of the Green; 
When Winter (warder of the hills is he, 
Who claims with windy fanfare empery 
And sends his minions forth with lock and key 
To bind the fallow fields, with eery glee, 
Clog up the busy town's machinery, 
To make all fast, seal up the gelid rills, 
The frozen boles that no sap, rising, thrills, 
And wreak upon a weary world their wills) — 
When Winter finds his rough wrought gyves are frail, 
And there has come a time of breaking gaol 
When streams leap forth and fields drink in the sun, 
And laughing down the woodland road comes one 
With glad deliverance for the captive earth, 
And Spring fills Winter's hemlock cup with mirth. 
And though you trace this big globe's plumpest girth, 
You'll find no spot where Spring shows rarer beauty 
Or carols notes more silver clear and fluty 
Than here in Jersey — and in Jersey's chart 
It's Princeton that lies nearest to her heart, 
Whereto she doth her sweetest joys impart. 

Well, then — an April day in Princeton 'twas, 
And 'round the campus with excited buzz 
The stirring news was passed from mouth to mouth: 
"To chapel, all ! Some message from the South — 
They say the war's begun, and Johnny's going 
To tell us how the Princeton wind is blowing!" 
The old man's heart was wrung by cross-emotions, 
And torn between two passionate devotions: 

57 



He loved his lads, and loved his country well, 

Nor grudged the sacrifice to shot and shell; 

But just suppose the case of some poor mother 

Called on to send one son to fight his brother ! 

And that was Prexy's case, in less degree, 

For of the Princeton students one in three 

Was Southern born, and filial; and he 

Stood in parentis loco not to two 

Or three, but to as many hundred, who 

Must answer to the urging of hot youth 

And take the field to fight and die for truth ; 

Truth double faced, the fatal invitation 

That lures mankind to futile immolation — 

An ikon floating on a ghastly flood 

Of ungrudged but how sadly wasted blood; 

Men fight for truth, men die for truth — and then 

True truth unmasks, while false "truth" leers at men. 

An April day in Princeton — and without, 
The vernal harbingers in merry rout 
Rejoice; within — within the house of prayer 
The dread word "war" enforms the vibrant air 
And strikes with chill impact each youthful heart — 
No shame to manhood that the hot tears start 
In eyes where friendship dwells — the stabbing dart 
Of hallowed grief released them, and the smart 
Of rudely riven bonds. With gentle art 
Their good old foster father played his part; 
The college, failing reconciliation, 
Must take its stand for union, for the nation; 
The boys who came from the seceding section 
Would never suffer in his fond affection — 
And North and South, he bade them ever deem 
The Princeton bond of fellowship supreme — 
With honest tears that needed no repressing, — 
Enough of scenes so solemn and distressing! 
The men of Princeton, ever at the front, 
Went off to war, and did their little stunt 
(We shan't ring in a word about "the brunt" 
For though their share of suffering they bore, 
In that they simply matched a million more, 
For there were only heroes in that war) ; 
And some came back to Princeton for degrees, 
And some still sleep beneath the Southern trees — 

58 



And on the campus, side by side, to-day 

The sons of North and Southland work and play.* 

*From "Princeton Old and New," by James W. Alexander: "In 
the autograph books which were circulated in 1861 nearly all the 
Southern boys added to their addresses the ominous initials 'C. S. A/ 
They were already regarding themselves as foreigners. One student 
wrote : 'Alas ! We are no longer countrymen. My country is in arms 
against yours. But there will always be peace among classmates.' 
Another wrote: 'I am just about to cross the lines, and it is probable 
we shall never meet again; but we will always cherish the friendly 
feeling which existed through our college days/ The mingling of 
political acrimony with fraternal attachment, and the domination of the 
latter sentiment while the war spirit was actually disrupting the college 
body was as pathetic as it was remarkable. The hundred or more 
undergraduates who left Princeton for their Southern homes were 
escorted to the station by the body of Northern students, and they 
parted in friendship, although some of them afterward met on the 
battlefield. When college opened in the autumn feeling of course ran 
high against Southern sympathizers. Two who were outspoken were 
put under the old pump and thoroughly drenched by several students. 
College discipline had to be exercised, and the offenders were suspended. 
* * * They were taken to the station in a barouche embellished with 
national colors, drawn by the students, and accompanied by a long 
procession preceded by a military band." — Of course every Princetonian 
knows the story of the vane on Nassau Hall that got jammed in a 
prophetic poise, pointing North, and so remained throughout the war. 
A year book of the class of '63 affords an interesting view of the 
way in which our students who wore the Blue and those who donned 
the Gray got back, after the cessation of hostilities, to the old footing of 
Princeton men all. 

XIII. 
In 'Sixty-eight the good old Doctor, feeling 
The burden of advancing years (rough dealing, 
Inexorable Time, or curse or blessing 
According as we make it so) addressing 
The honorable Board, expressed desire, 
With their august approval, to retire: 
"I've had this Princeton run," he wrote, "for more 
Than half a century— just fifty-four 
Long years, to be exact, of faithful service 
(From idle boasting may the saints preserve us!) 
As passenger and brakeman, engineer, 
And latterly conductor, fourteen year; 
There's not a task for any of the crew 

59 



That I have not been called upon to do, 
And done it with a right good will, To you, 
However, I need hardly point the fact 
That to the changing times we must react; 
The road should certainly be double tracked 
And ballasted; the schedule should be jacked 
Up somewhat, and the rolling stock renewed — 
The personnel needs weeding out. Why, you'd 
Be quite surprised to hear of all the schemes 
That come tq me at midnight in my dreams 
To bring the old road right up to the minute — 
Awake, I lack the courage to begin it. 
'Youth will be served/ and 'each dog has his day' ; 
It's time for me to step aside, I pray 
You, therefore, to accept my resignation! 
I'll quietly drop off at the next station." 
They took him at his word, and hired as watchman 
A witherspoon (synecdoche for Scotchman) ! 
And with McCosh the Middle Age is o'er, 
And Modern Princeton knocking at the door.* 

The tale is told — and it was good to tell! 

But Lord, how hard it is to say farewell ! 

Before the melancholy word is spoken 

And spell of pilgrim fellowship is broken, 

Let's give a rousing locomotive for 

McCosh ! And one for Patton ! Now, one more 

For Woodrow Wilson — come, get in it! Fellows, 

All together — though it should bust your bellows, 

Put all you've got in this one: John the first 

Since Witherspoon — Jack Hibben! (Willy Hearst 

With all his saffron army at his back 

Could never find a "yellow streak" in Jack!) 

We're with you, Prexy, hence forever forth, 

Unshakable, unchanging as Old North — 

Immortal edifice, beloved pile! 

Time cannot waste nor elements defile 

Thy substance, consecrated by our sires 

And wrought to perfect temper in the fires 

Of hope and faith and patriotic zeal — 

No stone within thy walls but bears the seal 

Of Nassau's pure fraternity, not one 

But witnesseth of labor nobly done 



♦The Rev. Dr. William Henry Green was first elected, but declined. 

60 



By some self-sacrificing, loyal son 

Of Princeton ! They were hardy pioneers, 

Brave builders for the undelivered years, 

Who left their record in these rugged walls. 

Hark, how their fearless, yearning spirit calls 

From generation unto generation 

Of Princeton men, with endless exhortation 

(A work of blessed supererogation!) 

A living, welling fount of inspiration! 

Belov'd acropolis! That typifies 

The strength and lasting quality of ties 

That bind each Princeton heart to her, the Mother, 

And each to each, as brother unto brother — 

At once the symbol and the source of all 

That makes the Fellowship of Nassau Hall! 



61 



